


Lady Marmalade

by dovingbird



Series: Moulin Rouge AU [1]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Anal Sex, Digital Sex, First Time, M/M, Moulin Rouge AU, Ninja Ship Party, Ninjaraptor, Oral Sex, basically danny is satine and brian is harold zidler and things happen, everyone will eventually make an appearance, this is more of a prequel than anything, though the actual primary ship of the entire AU will wait until I start the actual story, until then you get lovely smut with relatively rare pairings and drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two poor teenagers, Danny and Brian, are living on the street just like everybody else that they know and have a pipe dream to become as ridiculously wealthy as they can in a short amount of time. It just so happens that Danny is the not-so-smart one and thinks that clearly they should start a brothel, even if he has no sexual experience to speak of, and he and Brian are too deep into this whole friendship and brotherhood thing for Brian to back out of it all now.</p>
<p>A prequel for my upcoming Moulin Rouge AU, exploring how six kids dream big enough to try to change their stars and start a lot of shit along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a Moulin Rouge AU. You can thank several people for it, haha.
> 
> This AU grew over time from a little discussion among many of the shipgrumps writers, and the cast of characters will be revealed gradually over the course of the series. Right now we have Danny as Satine and Brian as Zidler, and this is essentially their prequel for how they came to start a brothel called the Moulin Rouge.
> 
> Hope you all have as much fun with this as I am!

The idea is so ludicrous that it can only come from something that nearly changes the course of life as they know it.  
  
It happens when they're starving, of course. They're always sort of starving, just lingering on the edge of an empty stomach, but there are times where it just becomes overwhelming, when their minds can only just barely form a clear plan to eradicate it. And those are the worst days, really, because that's when they just recycle old plans, ones they've done a hundred times over, and that means they're bound to go wrong eventually. And then there are other little variables that they never even consider that just pop up and ruin everything.  
  
Like, for example...look, there's these guys that nobody likes. _Nobody._ It's these three bastards, the ones that follow women around and catcall, who've just barely avoided being attached to an assault or two, who steal your kid's candy while they're stealing your valuables. And Danny and Brian might be thieves who take from the food vendors out on the street, but nine times out of then they know the world would pick them over these sons of bitches. See, Danny and Brian are charming. They have morals, things they stand for. They're actual decent human beings.  
  
The other three, they're such a waste of space that Danny doesn't even know their names.  
  
Leeroy, Jerry, and Horace, that's what Danny calls them, plucking out some of the most embarrassing names he can think of. Their little base of operations is a few miles away, deeper in the slums than even Brian or Danny dare to go unless forced, but somehow all five of them still seem to overlap. They pluck food from the same stalls. They've come to blows before when famine crossed the whole country one year, nearly shanked each other for a loaf of bread.  
  
Yeah. The two groups sure don't fucking like each other. But more often than not, Danny likes to think they can get over it, at least be civil enough that the town's guards don't just catch them all fighting in the street and haul them off to jail. Boys like Danny don't do well in prison.  
  
"What in the world are you looking at?"  
  
"Hmm?" Danny meets Brian's eyes instead of continuing to stare down at the market. "What?"  
  
"I told you to scout the market for the best food and here you are just staring vacantly into space." He huffs. "You're not even looking at a pretty girl. I'm so disappointed."  
  
Danny chuckles, gives him a pathetic little shove. "Sorry, God, I'll try harder to focus."  
  
"Don't bother."  
  
"Why? We gonna hit the usual?"  
  
"You'd think they'd be expecting it by now," Brian murmurs dryly, quirking a brow.  
  
Danny snorts. "I think she'd let us take her entire stock if you'd just suck it up and fuck her."  
  
Brian gives him that look, the 'keep talking and you're dead' one. "...she is a very kind woman."  
  
"Well then-"  
  
"No."  
  
They dismount from the roof easily, climbing down the broken rafter and through the hole in the wall and hopping over the fence. Dan nearly faceplants, of course, but that's pretty normal, normal enough that Brian's already got an arm out for him to grab hold of and stabilize himself again. "Thanks, man."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
Normally they can be a little more subtle. Stick to the shadows. All that nonsense. But at this point Danny's stomach is about to eat him alive, is ready to just claw him open and swallow anything it can get its hands on down. He doesn't bother. He walks right into the main path, feels Brian hesitate only a second before he follows.  
  
The air shifts in the market, the lines of street vendors staring right at the pair of them. They're known here, are suspicious enough even though they've never quite been pinned to anything. They show up just before things go missing. It's a thing that happens. No one bothers calling out to them, inviting them to peruse the wares. Just watch them as they walk by, quiet for only a second before they resume shouting at hapless bystanders.  
  
"What are you doing?" Brian murmurs, touching a hand to Danny's elbow to make sure he has his attention.  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"This is the usual?"  
  
He brushes him off with a smile. "C'mon, just be ready. Trust me."  
  
"What exactly are you going to do?"  
  
He's not very sure. He can't very well admit that, though, not when he's this hungry, when all he's focused on is putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to utterly crash.  
  
It's when they're about to pass the pub on the corner that Brian grabs him by the arm and jerks him to a stop, pulling him toward the nearby alley and ignoring how the closest stall owner immediately scowls at them. "What the fuck are you-"  
  
"Keep going," Danny says, giving him a little nudge.  
  
Brian blinks. "What?"  
  
"I'm not here. Go flirt."  
  
Blinks more.  
  
"Dude! She hasn't seen me yet! Go tell her I, like, died or something, I don't care. Just keep her distracted."  
  
"And what are you going to do?"  
  
Danny slowly glances up the side of the pub, tracing the missing bricks along it, far apart, but not too far for someone long and lean like him to scale.  
  
Brian follows his eyes. "...you're going to break your neck."  
  
"Maybe." He breaks away and starts fitting his fingers into the crevices, tongue peeking out from between his lips. When Brian tries to grab him by the pants Danny looks down at him with a broad grin. "I don't care if you rip those off, I'm getting on that roof, and I'm climbing down the other side and lifting some bread before she notices."  
  
"You're fucking insane. There's no way you'll-"  
  
"It gables or whatever. She has a fucking curtain or something stretched over her cart, and there's no way in hell I can break it when I'm this thin if I fall on it. I'll be fine."  
  
And Brian would never let him go through with this, not under any other circumstances, but their stomachs have actually stopped growling at this point, are just doing that dull sort of clawing at the edges, like a black hole expanding within both of them. And so after a long tense moment of holding his eyes he steps back, immediately whirls around and stalks his way into the market and turns the corner.  
  
Excellent.  
  
His hands are sort of pathetically soft for where he lives, but it's never been much of an issue until now. Danny scowls at them, hopes it'll make them harder within a second. He shoves his feet into the open spaces. Feels his arms strain as he climbs a bit higher. Nope, no, they're still weak. That's just fantastic. He huffs and continues his climb.  
  
It's pretty precarious, actually. Maybe he needs to do something to make his arms stronger, but he sort of can't do that now. Just has to keep climbing and not looking down and hoping that the roof is actually closer to the ground than it looks in case something goes wrong. There's one heartstopping moment where he grabs the edge of the roof and then realizes that he has to pull himself up the last remaining inches, feels his arms actually twitch in a moment of weakness that has him gasping, but then there's a rush of adrenaline and he's suddenly rolling onto his back on the roof, panting harder than he has in ages.  
  
Okay. Good. He can do this.  
  
He rolls onto his belly and begins crawling across the surface, the shingles catching every once and a while on his shirt. It's weird, the shouting from the market dulled by the wind whipping across the roof here, how his hair is flying every which way and he's having to rely more on touch than sight to make sure he's heading in the right direction. But he does. He reaches the other edge of the roof after what feels like countless painful seconds, after there are at least three splinters somewhere in his belly, and carefully pokes his head over the edge.  
  
Curtains. Right. Endless drapes obscuring his vision over which booth is which.  
  
He's really good at this shit, isn't he.  
  
He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes, tries to focus on the voices surging everywhere around him. And it's hard, but...but _there._ There, he swears he can hear it. Can hear the easy way Brian's voice rolls. Can hear the almost timid way the woman in charge of the booth responds.  
  
"...this bread looks incredible. Did you bake it yourself?"  
  
"Oh, it's...it's not much. Nothing exciting at all. Would you maybe like a sample?"  
  
"Really? You'd do that for me?"  
  
"Oh, of course!"  
  
 _Lay it on thick there, Brian._ Danny grins as he shifts. There's a gable in the way, this big old extension that's probably got a window on it or something, and he figures he might be able to climb into it, might be able to lean out and figure out exactly which booth he's aiming to climb down on top of. Brian's gonna have to amp up his distraction around then, Danny thinks, shuffling around the gable as carefully as he can. Probably gonna have to rip off his shirt and spin it around and-  
  
"Fuck!" And it happens fast, it happens _so_ fucking fast, his hand connecting with something warm and fleshy, another hand, a hand connected to an arm connected to fucking Leeroy, that asswipe, both of them on this fucking roof, and they're teetering, and he's pretty sure the bastard has a fucking _knife,_ and Danny's suddenly screaming as he flies backward and Leeroy's flying off the edge and there's just the sound of fabric ripping like a thunderclap as Danny just barely regains his hold on the roof and heaves himself up, pressing himself flat as a pancake.  
  
His heart is pounding as he crawls out of sight, sweat pouring down his face. He digs his nails into the roof as best as he can, listens to the way the voices all bleed into each other, the woman screaming as Leeroy apparently breaks every inch of her cart with his massive girth, Brian calling for the guards and insisting that this man was clearly trying to rob the poor woman, Leeroy shouting that no, there was someone else, someone up on that roof, someone that just nobody could see...  
  
Hours pass. He swears they do, even though the sun barely seems to move. All he knows is that he's petrified, terrified that any movement will give away his position, that someone's going to link him to the exact same thing. And he's not charming enough to get on the guards' good side, not nearly.  
  
Sounds like a challenge, but...but maybe not worth getting his hand fucking chopped off or something.  
  
Everything's quieted a bit when he finally starts sneaking his way back to where he began climbing. The drop's a little smaller next to the pub, shadowy enough that the only people that'll notice him are the drunks. He sort of envies them right now. He's too twitchy, too nervous about where Brian is, about where...God, is Brian okay? Did he get away without anything pointing to him?  
  
He doesn't have long to wonder. Danny's just barely dropped back down to the ground, completely fucking it up and ending up on his ass, before he hears Brian's voice again. But it's quiet now, not nearly as smooth or charming. Jagged.  
  
"I'm sure he'll get off easy. Maybe just one hand, yes?"  
  
"He loses a hand, you lose your arm." That one's...fuck, which idiot is it, Jerry? He thinks Jerry. Danny licks his dry, dusty lips before peeking around the wall of the pub.  
  
There. There they are, in the alley, Brian standing with his back to the wall, hands curled into fists, the other two assholes standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of him. They're so huge compared to him. Brian's always been a little short, yeah - muscular, fit, but short - and it's even worse when these guys are at least a head and a half taller, are twice as wide as he is.  
  
"Is that so?" Brian quirks a brow. "Now, I don't think that's fair at all."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"I have more worth in my pinkie finger than he has in his entire body. Seems to me that if he loses a hand, I should lose, what, a hair, maybe?"  
  
One of them shoves him flat against the wall, and then there's another knife, and fuck, don't these bastards use anything but those things, and the knife's pressed into Brian's neck. "Y'know, it's funny, your little boyfriend's not here, is he?"  
  
"Who, Dan?" Brian murmurs with a little chuckle, quirking a brow.  
  
"Yeah. You get rid of him? Did he get bored of your cock down his throat?"  
  
And then Brian smirks. "Jealous?"  
  
 _Shut the fuck up, you bastard._ It's bullshit, every word of it, but Danny's not even uncomfortable about the suggestion, is too busy sweating when he sees a little pearl of blood swell from Brian's neck and begin dripping down his throat.  
  
"You're pissing me off."  
  
"Then c'mon, just do it," the other chucklefuck says, "just take care of it, let's get out of here."  
  
"Too easy."  
  
"He's not a fucking toy, you asshole, this place is still swarming with guards and you know it-"  
  
And as they're arguing Brian flicks his eyes to the side, just a brief movement, but his eyes meet Danny's and there's a flush of adrenaline washing through his veins suddenly, ten years of memories flooding his brain and pressing into his skull, and then he's crouching down, is plucking a jagged piece of broken glass from by his feet, is taking one, two, three steps before he lunges, loops an arm around one of their neck's and feels the slightest bit of resistance as he slices.  
  
And fuck, there's more screaming, more blood, a thrash of movement as Danny's thrown back and Brian's lurching to tackle the other asshole to the ground and punch his fucking lights out, and then a hand in his, him nearly tripping over his own feet as he drops the glass and follows close behind Brian, so close that by the time they're home and Brian's pausing to open the door Danny just slams flush into him, knocks them both through the rickety door and onto the floor.  
  
"Get the fuck off me," Brian wheezes, and Danny complies, rolling away just as Brian comes onto his side. "Jesus." He touches his neck as he crawls forward and kicks the door shut behind them. "Is it bad?"  
  
Danny hesitates before leaning in, grabbing Brian's chin to lift it up. "...just a scratch. Fuck, that was stupid."  
  
"What, me?"  
  
"No, _me._ That knife could've gone straight through you."  
  
Brian chuckles dryly as he props himself up against the wall and experimentally pokes at the skin around his cut. "Would've saved you a hell of a lot of trouble, huh? Less mouths to feed. Just your own belly."  
  
And Danny's not even focusing when he slams his fist against the door, points his index finger straight at Brian's surprised face. "Don't you ever fucking say that again. If something happened to you, I...I don't..."  
  
Brian wrinkles his brow. "...Danny, I-"  
  
"Just shut up." He shoves himself to his feet, winces when his shirt catches on those fucking splinters. "Goddammit, we didn't even get any shit."  
  
"Says you."  
  
"What?"  
  
Brian pushes himself to his feet too and reaches into his raggedy coat, pulling out two extremely lopsided loaves of bread. "Well, I mean, she couldn't exactly sell these after somebody sat on them, so..."  
  
Nothing's ever looked better.  
  
They work quickly, ripping off chunks of bread and popping them into their mouths as they clean up blood and splinters, use the last of that peroxide they filched a few months back to make sure everything is kosher (Dan snorts at the phrase) before flopping down onto the dusty old couch and finishing off the loaves because why bother keeping some around for later when they're already starving?  
  
It's quiet for a bit. And then Danny looks at Brian, just watches him quietly. Wonders at the lurch that shoots through him every fucking time he sees the soft scabbing over his neck. It doesn't take long for Brian to look at him and quirk a brow. "What?"  
  
He's not even sure what he's thinking. All he knows is that he opens her mouth and says "We can't keep doing this."  
  
Brian chuckles, tucking his hands behind his neck as he leans back. "Doing what? Trusting you to climb roofs properly and not fuck something up?"  
  
"Okay, first of all, that wasn't my fault, fucking Leeroy was already up there for reasons I don't even understand, and _second_ of all, I was doing just fine. And third of all. You. Almost. Died."  
  
Brian licks his lips as he looks away, averts his eyes in that way he gets when he's being all nervous and shit. "I was fine. I could've taken them."  
  
"They were about to shish-kabob you."  
  
"I was _fine!_ "  
  
"I don't care. We're not doing this anymore. This...this being all thievy and shit thing."  
  
There's a little scoff as Brian meets his eyes again. "Forceful tonight, aren't you?"  
  
Danny grits his teeth. "I'd like it if you'd maybe stop treating this like a joke or something, okay? Because, guess what, you're the closest thing I have to a brother, and you've been the only thing keeping me alive for the past ten years, and I'm not gonna stand here and watch you not live another ten because the stakes keep getting higher."  
  
Brian just holds his eyes for a few moments. "...look, Dan, as flattered as I am that you think I'm gonna make it to thirty at _all,_ what exactly are you proposing?"  
  
"Money. We need money. We need fucking money, right, like, right away."  
  
"Fucking money?" He grins. "What, you looking to go get some whores or something?"  
  
And it hits him all in a rush, so fast that he almost falls off the couch with the whirl of it. But he doesn't. He collapses even deeper into the couch and starts laughing.  
  
"What in the world's wrong with you?"  
  
"Jesus Christ, Brian, that's it. That's totally it. Need fast money? Sell some sweet ass."  
  
Brian stares at him for a long moment before he starts laughing too, _really_ laughing, those fantastic sounds that only happen when he's heard something absolutely ridiculous. "What, whore you out? Right. Right, that'll totally work."  
  
"Oh, you don't think anybody wants my sweet ass?"  
  
"You're a virgin, man."  
  
"So?!" Not that he's touchy about being an eighteen-year-old virgin, okay, it's just...it's always been either life or death and no time in between. "God, just imagine all the rich widows out there that need some satisfaction!"  
  
"Right. No, yeah, totally gonna happen."  
  
"You don't sound sincere."  
  
"It's because I'm not, you idiot."  
  
"Well, _I'm_ completely serious."  
  
"You think it's gonna be easy?"  
  
Dan chuckles as he leans even further into the couch, so much so it almost swallows him. "Brian. It's _sex._ Tell me five reasons why it's a bad thing."  
  
Brian rolls his eyes.  
  
"I'll have you know I'm gonna be _amazing_ at my job, thank you _very_ much."  
  
"Oh, I don't doubt that." Brian rubs the back of his neck as he considers Danny, standing up and tucking one hand into his pocket. "I simply...don't think you're considering all of the implications of what's in store for you in this potential job."  
  
"Huh." Dan holds up a finger. "Sex." And another. "More sex." Pauses. "What am I missing here?"  
  
He's so young. Brian has to remind himself of that at times like this. Has to take a moment to knit his thoughts together so he won't do something silly like scare Danny before anything's even happened. "...you're half-right."  
  
Danny blinks, cocks his head to the side like a puppy.  
  
"There's sex, yes, but being a whore doesn't mean you can choose your partners."  
  
Danny then sort of wrinkles his brow. "So there's gonna be some ugly, old women."  
  
"So maybe there won't be many women at all."  
  
There it is. He watches the realization hit Danny, sees the way his eyes widen just before he leans forward and just barely plants his feet on the floor.  
  
Brian wanders away, pacing, feeling his voice shift the way it always does when he feeds these trains of thoughts to Danny. Hears the tone smooth out and grow a touch velvety, hypnotic. "Prostitution primarily feeds the underworld, Danny, but that's not all there is to it. It's also a place to escape. To bring one's lesser appreciated tastes somewhere where they may flourish." He pauses. "Especially if one is privileged. Always in the spotlight. If one has any leanings that are less-than-satisfactory, one may seek a place where they can be explored and then put to rest in a single night."  
  
"...you're talking about men."  
  
He can't help but smile. Thank God his back is to Danny when he does. "Yes, Dan."  
  
"Men fucking other men."  
  
"Men looking for beautiful, approachable, charming people that can help them forget their own tarnished selves for one night."  
  
Silence.  
  
Brian looks over his shoulder. "Could you do it?"  
  
Danny isn't looking at him anymore. He's staring at the floor, knitting his hands together in his lap, biting his bottom lip.  
  
"Could you actually let a man use you like that?"  
  
He rubs his hands together. Releases a shaky sigh. This isn't just tossing around ideas for fun anymore, he can see that. Is shocked that Dan's even letting him continue on his train of thought when he's...well, _him._ "...h-how much...would he be charged?"  
  
"Enough." Another touch of silence. "Enough to make it worth your while."  
  
Danny nods quickly, suddenly jittery, eyes jumping all around the room before he sucks in a loud, heavy breath and lands those eyes smack on Brian. "It'd hurt, wouldn't it? You've...you've done it before, haven't you? How did you bear it?"  
  
Oh, the things he wishes Danny couldn't put together by himself sometimes. Because it's true. Dan's an eighteen-year-old virgin and Brian is twenty years old and with a bit more experience than he'd planned to have under his belt. Brian looks down at the ground for a moment before resuming his pacing. "It's not all pain."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"It's all in how you prepare, Dan. Just like everything new. If you're careful and you're safe, the pain is inconsequential. Can melt away into something...incredible."  
  
Silence so thick that Brian thinks he might be able to break off a chunk. And then Danny again, soft and a little shaky. "But what if they don't care? About me? About making me...okay?"  
  
"They very well might not. But they don't have to."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
And this is risky and dangerous, the most dangerous thing he's ever proposed even in all their years of living on the street and mixing in enough situations that should've ended with them both bleeding out on the cobblestone, but he has to say it now or he'll never get the balls to do it again, and if it's this or Danny getting so violated he can't sit for a week then he can choke down his nerves and just fucking say it. "You can do it yourself. Prepare yourself, I mean. Your body."  
  
"But I don't know-"  
  
"I could teach you."  
  
There. It's said. It's out there. But Brian can't even look at Danny. He just stands there with his back to him, staring at the wall, waiting for something. Anything.  
  
But there's nothing. So he turns his head and looks, and Danny's staring at him like he's never seen him before in his life. But he's not...not disgusted. Or scared, even. No, just surprised.  
  
"Is that all you could teach me?" Danny asks softly, quirking his brow.  
  
Brian breathes a laugh, one bubbling with a touch of adrenaline. "Is that all you want to know?"  
  
Danny opens and closes his mouth a few times before curling up, this ridiculous long-legged gangly ball with wide eyes and a shrub of hair peeking out. Hiding. The bastard. And then he lifts his head enough for his lips to appear and speaks again. "If I'm gonna be a whore...I need to be the best damn whore this world's ever seen, right?"  
  
Brian considers. "Well, that'll certainly bring in the money we need, won't it?"  
  
"Then I need to know how to do everything. So show me what you know."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Tonight."  
  
Brian can't help but stare at him, wonder at how easy this was.  
  
"Tonight you can teach me whatever the fuck I need to know to bliss somebody out to the extreme. To keep them coming back with more money every time." He pauses. "You can do that, right, Brian?"  
  
He shrugs. "I suppose. If you're up for it."  
  
"Doesn't really matter, does it? We need money if we're gonna get anywhere. So why just sit around wasting time?"  
  
There's a lot of things he can say to that, but his mind is already racing, making connections, figuring out exactly what he needs for what is apparently going to happen. He stares at Danny for a little longer, waiting for him to laugh, to call all of this a joke, but no, he's just watching him right back. And then breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor. That, more than anything else, tells Brian that Danny is definitely serious about this, the fact that he can't just maintain that connection out of what's most likely a touch of shame.  
  
And that just solidifies the fact that he's going to make sure all of this goes as smoothly as possible.  
  
"Where do you want this to happen?"  
  
Danny opens and closes his mouth a few times before waving his hand dismissively. "My room." Covers his eyes with his palm. "That's fine."  
  
Of course. Danny's home territory, where he's comfortable, rather than Brian's, full of Brian's pheromones and smells and details, all those unfamiliar intimate things. "And the time?"  
  
"Midnight."  
  
"All right."  
  
There's a bit of silence before Danny drops his hand, meets Brian's eyes again, and his eyes are wide, maybe even a little scared even if he's trying to hide it, and Brian takes pity, turning to leave the room.  
  
He pauses, though, rests his hand on the splintering doorframe before glancing over his shoulder. "It's going to be fine, Danny."  
  
He snorts, but nods. "No, I know."  
  
"I mean it." He quirks his brow. "If you want to do this, _really_ want to do it...I'm the last person in the world that would hurt you."  
  
And this time Danny flicks his eyes over Brian's face for a long moment of contemplation before nodding, speaking softer. "...I know."  
  
They're set, then. Brian leaves the room, steps over the loose rickety floorboard that could cave in any day now. He has preparations to make.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Brian pauses at Danny's door that night, watches the way he's already up and pacing back and forth, so agitated he doesn't even notice Brian's presence. He hesitates before rapping his knuckles on the doorframe, and Danny whirls around, almost trips over his own too-long legs as he stares at him. "...hey."  
  
Brian smiles, giving a little wave of his fingers. "Hello there."  
  
"I, uh..." He gives a grand gesture in, like Brian is a duke or something, and Brian accepts with a little inclination of his head as he steps in. Brian's barely taken a few steps into the tiny room before Danny tries to resume his pacing, finds it hard with Brian blocking his path. "So this is definitely happening, right? Like, you're not just...fucking with me."  
  
"Not in so many words." Brian watches as Danny moves like a current is running through him, all sudden twitchy movements and nervous tics. Absently ruffling his hair. Tugging at the hem of his rumpled shirt. "You can have a seat, if you like."  
  
Danny laughs, all bubbles and nerves. "I-I can't."  
  
Brian quirks a brow. "Well, that's going to put an interesting spin on the night, isn't it?"  
  
"Oh, _totally,_ " Danny says, and the sarcasm is just dripping from his words, thick like oil. "Like it's not already gonna be fucking weird enough."  
  
Silence. Brian is testing the tone that Danny speaks in, trying to taste if it's angry or simply him covering up how uncomfortable he is. His results are inconclusive. "...we don't have to do this-"  
  
"Yes we do."  
  
Brian stares at him, frowning, rubbing his hand over his stubble.  
  
"Look, this is happening, okay? We're getting the money to get out of here. To make something of ourselves. And we've gotta do it fast."  
  
And that's when he knows he has to ask the question neither of them have acknowledged so far. "Why?"  
  
Danny meets his eyes, frowning.  
  
"Why do we have to do it fast? Why don't we take our time?"  
  
He laughs softly again, but this time it's bitter. Tinged with acid. "And do what? Get a trade? Make pennies a day shoveling shit? We're nothing to them, Brian. No family. No fancy name. Nothing. Except maybe a pretty face. And besides, you and I both know we don't _have_ time."  
  
And he definitely doesn't need to explain that last statement any more. How many friends and acquaintances have they seen dead in an alley? In a ditch? How many people in this city have gray hair, even among the wealthy?  
  
"So we do it the fast way. And that means we either steal like mad...or sell me."  
  
"Why you?"  
  
Have you _seen_ me?" He's joking, but there's still a certain cynicism in how he says it. "You're better behind the scenes anyway. You've got a brain. I've got a pretty smile. And that's all there is to it." He shrugs. "And you...seem to understand things like lining up clients, or..."  
  
Brian knows better than to correct him or compliment him, to say that he has a mind too. Danny'll shut himself down in a second. "...how do you want to begin, then?"  
  
"God, I don't even know. I've done shit."  
  
"You've kissed."  
  
"Yeah, uh, maybe we don't need to practice that."  
  
Brian snorts. As if kissing is too intimate, as if him teaching Danny how to suck cock's gonna be any less strange. Whatever makes him happy, though. He wracks his brain for a moment. "...all right. The real question is do you want to come first or last?"  
  
He might as well have just offered Danny gold, the way his eyes and smile widen. "I get to come?"  
  
"What, are you serious?"  
  
"I-I mean, I didn't think...I don't need to _learn_ how to jizz everywhere, do I?"  
  
Brian can't help but smirk and look down at the floor for a moment. "I need to make sure...your orgasm looks and sounds appealing."  
  
Danny grins all the more. "What, a face like this, have a disappointing orgasm? Come on."  
  
Brian stares.  
  
"...what?"  
  
He shakes his head and moves on. "I need to see how long you can last as well."  
  
"What?! Why?!"  
  
"Do you think people will hire a whore who can't even last for three minutes?"  
  
Danny splutters in indignation before collapsing on the bed with a huff.  
  
"So. First or last?"  
  
"Last." Danny sighs. "Might as well give me something to look forward to."  
  
Brian chuckles. He's already gathered the supplies he needs. It's easy to pull out the necessary lubrication and whatnot and set them on the rickety box Danny's been using for a nightstand, and it's endlessly amusing the way Danny eyes everything like it's a snake. "All right, then." He considers what order to take everything here, if Danny's psyche can handle so many new things in one night when he's so young, so into women and nervous about men in these situations.  
  
He must be considering things for a little too long, because Danny quirks a brow and tilts his head to the side. "Well? Are you getting your dick out or what?"  
  
Brian snorts again and shakes his head. "Good. That's very good."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're going to have to wear a different mask for every person you're with. You know that, right?"  
  
"Uhh..."  
  
"So that was nice. The sort of alluring and sassy mask."  
  
Danny bats his eyelashes and drags his hands down his chest. "You think I'm _alluring?_ "  
  
Brian blinks. "...stop that."  
  
"Aww."  
  
"So you want my pants off?"  
  
"I-I just, I mean-"  
  
"Stop talking. Think for a moment." Brian leans down so that they're eye-to-eye for a moment. "Don't just...spout off whatever comes to mind. You need to actually use your brain every once and a while."  
  
Danny's offended. That much is clear. But he huffs and tries to please him, at the least. Lets his eyes get a little distant as he thinks.  
  
"You want to come last. All right. So let me walk you through some things that we can do tonight: I put my fingers inside of you, I let you get used to how I feel inside of you or your mouth..."  
  
"Both pretty unsatisfying choices," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.  
  
Brian just smiles. What's the point in getting impatient, honestly, when they've got the whole night to figure things out and nowhere to go. "Just pick one. We can figure the rest out later."  
  
"Could we not?"  
  
That's enough to make Brian blink. "Pardon?"  
  
"Like...can't we just do everything tonight?"  
  
A few more blinks. "You...aren't going to become perfectly comfortable with everything in one night."  
  
"Well, how do you know? Maybe I'm a natural or something."  
  
Brian crosses his arms over his chest, can't help but stare a little. The kid's a very young eighteen-year-old. He ends up leaning a little closer, making sure that Danny can't look anywhere but his eyes. "Maybe you're unaware of this. But you're gonna have my dick in your ass. And you're gonna have to suck me off." He cocks his head to the side. "You really think you're gonna be completely comfortable with that?"  
  
Danny open and closes his mouth a few times before clearly trying to do that whole thinking thing that Brian suggested. His response is still "It's not going to be a problem," but at least he tried.  
  
Brian flicks his eyes over Danny's face, purposely takes his time absorbing every sharp angle he sees, the bare dusting of his stubble, everything else. Feels a bit gratified when Danny begins rubbing his arm in discomfort. "...all right, then." He stands tall and immediately works at undoing his pants, watches as Danny's eyes widen a little as he stares straight at his crotch. "So. _This..._ " He fishes out his dick, ignores the fact that he's mostly flaccid, begins palming himself without so much as a gasp. "...is a cock."  
  
"Shut up." Danny's trying not to smile but he fails, breathes out a chuckle with his "You're such a son of a bitch."  
  
Brian grins. "Pretty fantastic specimen, I know."  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"Of course you are." And this should be weird, it really should, but hell, Danny's not bad-looking. He's always sort of thought that. And Brian's familiar enough with his own body to know the exact movements of his hand to tease himself up, feels himself growing harder by the second, feels little flicks of heat dancing through him. And honestly? He refuses to let it get awkward at all. If he shows one second of nerves or awkwardness, that's gonna be all it takes to make Danny back down, he can tell. This confidence, it's just a pretty mask. Just a bit of kohl on his eyelids and rouge on his cheeks. It's nothing solid. He's already flicking his eyes from Brian's face to his cock over and over again, biting his bottom lip in a way that's equal parts enticing and terrified.  
  
God, he really _does_ have a good look for this.  
  
"...should I be doing that?" Danny asks, gesturing sort of weakly to how he's hardening.  
  
Brian chuckles. "Would it make you feel better?"  
  
"Going from touching your dick to putting it in my mouth? Hell, probably."  
  
Fair enough. He shrugs one shoulder, moves his hand to cradle his erection and offer it to Danny, and that's when Dan actually sits back a little, eyes getting huge. Ah yes, he should have expected that. "What?"  
  
"Are you fucking serious?!"  
  
Brian laughs again, tilting his head down because just looking at Danny's face is enough to set him off even more. "I, uh..."  
  
"That's so not fair!" He gestures weakly again, stammering for a moment, articulate as always. "Y-you're fucking huge, what, what the _fuck?!_ " Slaps the bed and crosses his arms over his chest. "Why the hell aren't you doing this instead of me again?"  
  
"Because you told me I would be better behind the scenes?" He finally manages to look up and simply smirk instead of laugh. "Because you wanted to be the whore here?"  
  
Danny shakes his head. "You're not putting that inside of me. I'll split like a fucking banana."  
  
"Dan. Look at me. Not the cock, look at _me._ " And Danny does, but he's clearly equal parts disturbed and amazed. "I can assure you...that I know what I'm doing. And that I'll cause you no damage."  
  
"Will it hurt?" No more timidness. Just an outright demand for information. "Are you gonna hurt me?"  
  
He takes a few seconds to consider Danny's build, to think over his own phrasing. "...I will do everything in my power...to keep you as pain-free as possible."  
  
"Fucking..." Danny huffs, looks away as he rakes his fingers through his hair.  
  
"Think of it this way." He quirks his brow with another little smile. "After me, you'll be ready for anything."  
  
"Jesus Fucking Christ, just give me your dick already." He holds out his hand and glares up at him, but it's a petulant glare, more of a pout than actual anger, so Brian's unimpressed. Just shrugs as he steps forward.  
  
Danny hesitates. Draws his fingers back into a loose fist for a moment before reaching toward him. Brian lets him get less than an inch away before he murmurs "Lube," startles Danny so much that he flinches. "Lubrication is your friend, Daniel."  
  
"Oh my God, will you please not call me Daniel when I'm about to jack you off," he groans. Is his hand shaking a little? Brian files that away even as Danny reaches for the oil, considers it. "...is this what's gonna go in my ass?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Fantastic."  
  
"Get your whole hand slick, will you? I don't want you chafing me."  
  
"Asshole." But he does as Brian asks. Takes on a sort of contemplative look as he rubs the oil all over his hand, slick and nearly dripping. "This is so weird, do you realize that?"  
  
"This is as weird as you let it be, Dan. Job training. Nothing more."  
  
Danny flicks his eyes down to Brian's hardness again. "...is _that_ why you're getting harder by the second?"  
  
Brian's quiet for long enough that Danny meets his eyes again. "Do you really want to know the answer to that?"  
  
He can almost see the word shoot through Danny's mind, the abrupt _Fuck._ He bites his bottom lip before he speaks. "...do you, uh...like...have...feelings for me? Or something?"  
  
And Brian can actually feel his eyes softening a little at how Danny is once again a strange combination of fear and curiosity. "...we're family, all right? That's it." He smirks. "You just happen to be relatively attractive and about to give me a handjob. That's all right, right?"  
  
" _Relatively?_ " And it's okay, because he's snorting now. "I'll make you eat those words."  
  
"I'd like to see you try."  
  
Challenges always work on Danny. Always have. So he reaches right out and wraps his hand around Brian's erection, and that's all there is to it.  
  
He's tentative, so tentative, like it's a snake instead of a cock. But that's still the smooth brush of fingers along his shaft, slick and hot, and that's enough to make Brian's breath silently catch. But Danny sort of just...holds it. And that's a bit anticlimactic. "Well?"  
  
"I, uh..." Danny licks his lips in hesitation. "What do I do?"  
  
An endless source of amusement here. "It's a cock, Danny. You have one. I presume you've jacked it before."  
  
"Oh my _God,_ I'm gonna rip your dick off."  
  
"That might actually be more effective than what you're doing now," Brian drawls. But then Danny's cheeks are actually flushing, and that's all he needs to know he has to back off. "Honestly, Danny, it's just like any other erection. Moving in general feels fantastic."  
  
He gives a little nod, bites his bottom lip in concentration as he twists his wrist, fingers running along the underside of Brian's cock. It's simple, but he handles everything so teasingly, just a slow squeeze as he reaches the head, that Brian opens his mouth to speak.  
  
Brian murmurs a low "Good," but that makes Danny scoff. "What?"  
  
"I didn't even do anything. You don't have to hold my hand every step of the way."  
  
"You made my dick twitch in your hand," Brian says dryly. "Figured that deserved a little encouragement, bastard."  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yes. And your little attitude right there, that's decidedly unattractive, just so you know."  
  
"And?  
  
"And if we're doing a crash course here, then you need to treat this like a scene, not a game."  
  
"What's that mean?"  
  
"I'm your customer. And if you don't seduce the shit out of me, I'm taking my money back and throwing you in the dirt."  
  
Danny grits his teeth for a second, dropping his eyes as he presses the palm of his hand right against the head of Brian's cock. And that's not enough to make Brian gasp, not really, but then Danny lifts his gaze again, and when his eyes hit Brian's they catch him by surprise. His eyelids are drooping a bit, languid as anything, emphasizing the length of his eyelashes. Heat, there's definite heat there too, flowing out of them. It's like he's flipped a switch. And that's before he even speaks. "...how long's it been?"  
  
"Since what?" Brian asks softly, quirking a brow.  
  
"Since you fucked someone?"  
  
He opens his mouth, closes it again when he can't remember off the top of his head.  
  
"Since your cock...was inside somebody's hot, wet mouth?"  
  
"It...it has to have been..."  
  
"Too long, then." And Danny flashes him a smirk. "Well, don't worry. I'm gonna suck you off so hard it'll be impossible to forget."  
  
And that time, when Danny adds a touch of precum to his already slick hand, Brian definitely gasps. He manages a chuckle, though, around the sound. " _Very_ good." Grins down at Danny, who's trying to hide how plased he is. "Where'd you learn to talk like that, then?"  
  
"Oh, you know." He's still got this warmth in his tone, thickening his timbre a bit so every vowel is nice and wide. It's sort of fascinating to listen to. The kid's got a nice voice - he's been singing incredibly obscene sea shanties about dicks that he picked up from the docks ever since Brian met him - but the fact that he can carry that vocal control here, into the bedroom, is so bizarre. "I know some people."  
  
"You know some people," Brian drawls back, giving a quiet hiss when Danny begins picking up speed, shooting fire every which way in his veins.  
  
"Yeah. Some people down the way."  
  
Faces fill his head immediately, and he'd be lying if he says one of them doesn't give that extra kick to Danny's touch. "Oh Jesus, please tell me you're not talking about that Arin kid."  
  
He slowly grins. "Why's that?"  
  
So much he could say. He settles for biting his bottom lip, looking away until he can come up with something instead of holding Danny's eyes and showing everything on his face.  
  
"...shit, you've fucked him, haven't you?"  
  
"That is a gross account of slander."  
  
"It's not slander if it happened." Danny chuckles. Scoots to the edge of the bed and works at rolling a bit of oil around his other hand as well. "Don't lie. You fucked him. Tell me the truth."  
  
Brian huffs out a long sigh, digging one of his hands into Danny's shoulder when his pace picks up all the more. "...look, it's not like I intended to-"  
  
"Oh my God!" Danny nearly shouts the roof off the damn place. "Are you fucking serious?!"  
  
"Honestly, Danny, I can count on one hand the number of times we had sex."  
  
"But does that count handies or beej, though?"  
  
He doesn't respond.  
  
"Jesus Fucking Christ, I cannot believe you."  
  
"It doesn't concern you-"  
  
"You've spent-" He punctuates his sentence by wrapping his other hand around the base of Brian's cock, working both hands at once. "-I don't even know how many years trying to keep me from hanging out with him. And for what? So you could fuck him?"  
  
And the honest truth is that this feels so fucking good that he can barely focus, but it doesn't matter, he's going to fight it. "Arin...is a strange creature," he manages in a breathy tone. "I have never seen a man more obsessed with sex than him."  
  
"He's a dude."  
  
"And he has absolutely no qualms with seducing anyone he finds attractive, no matter how uncomfortable they seem to feel."  
  
Danny gives a quick laugh. "I can't imagine you being uncomfortable with it."  
  
"I wasn't." Brian sets his free hand on Danny's other shoulder, squeezing them in tandem with the movement on his cock. "But I thought you might've been."  
  
The hands slow for a moment in surprise, and that's all Brian needs to gently push Danny back, to break that contact between them. "He was into _me?_ "  
  
Brian snorts as he runs a hand through his short hair, pretending the beginnings of sweat aren't beading along his forehead thanks to Danny's attentions. "Arin is into any human being with a pulse."  
  
"He never did anything, though."  
  
"Correction: he never did anything major. And you're far too dense to catch subtleties."  
  
Danny licks his lips. Looks down at the floor as he absently rubs his lubricated hands together. "So you...what, fucked him to save my honor or something?"  
  
Still not the sharpest tool in the shed. "I slept with him because I _wanted_ to. But yes, I suppose it did help keep him busy so he didn't harass you instead."  
  
"And what happened after that to make him stop, if you guys aren't fucking anymore?"  
  
Brian quirks a brow. "As if you don't know. Put it together."  
  
It doesn't take long, thankfully. "He's a prostitute now too."  
  
"Mm."  
  
Danny laughs. "He stopped flirting with me because I couldn't afford him?"  
  
"Essentially." And then he huffs out a sigh. "Are you going to keep talking about Arin this entire time? Do I have to stick myself down your throat?"  
  
"Oh, like it's not a matter of time." Danny stares at his cock, no longer afraid of it but definitely curling his lip in a little bit of wariness. "That oil's gonna taste disgusting, isn't it?"  
  
"Eh, it's not bad."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
Brian chuckles and shakes his head. "I can wipe it off, if you'd rather."  
  
"Yeah, do that." There's a pause as Brian plucks something up. "And not on my fucking shirt, Jesus Christ."  
  
This is going far better than he expected, honestly. There's been a touch of initial reluctance, but smooth sailing otherwise. After snagging a towel and working at eradicating the oil - things would be so much easier if the well was closer - he glances over his shoulder, catches the way Danny is looking over him before realizing he's caught and immediately looking at his hands as he clears his throat.  
  
Perhaps he's been curious all this time. Perhaps it took a strange act of God to make him realize it.  
  
Brian decides not to mention that he's waiting for Danny to back out when things start getting a little more intense. This here, a simple blowjob, he wouldn't be surprised if that's all it took, honestly. But when he tosses the towel to Danny to clean off his hands and kicks his pants officially off, Dan's still sitting there, not even fidgeting. "How do you want to do this?"  
  
Danny glances up again, blinking. "Huh?"  
  
"Do you still want this to happen?"  
  
"Well, yeah, of course, gotta figure it out sometime."  
  
"So do you want me like this? Nude? What?"  
  
Dan flicks his eyes over him again before clearing his throat and chucking the towel aside. "I mean, you know, everything's gotta come off eventually, doesn't it?"  
  
"Not always. It just depends on what you want." And he keeps his eyes on Danny's even as he tries to avoid looking at him, lets the silence bleed through, determined for Dan to be the one to break it.  
  
"...I-I mean, I don't care, you might as well just go ahead and take off your shirt, I guess."  
  
Interesting.  
  
Brian follows his suggestion, lands the shirt in the pile of clothing growing, before making his way back across the room. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Pssh, yeah, of course I am," Danny says with a grin. Fake, of course, but he's not shaking, not showing any signs of being on the verge of a panic. He's determined to get this finished, apparently. Determined to learn. "So what do I, uh..."  
  
That's it, isn't it. He's not just determined to learn. He's determined to _please._  
  
That hits Brian with an odd amount of force, like he's just been punched in the face. Because it's true. He can see it so easily now, how this isn't just a lesson to Danny, some random thing to do and then forget. No, he legitimately wants to show Brian that he can do this. And whether it's because he wants to impress him or to prove that he's totally capable of keeping up with Brian sexually, it's still something that's...incredibly important to Brian, for a number of reasons that he can't quite articulate.  
  
Brian reaches out and threads his fingers through Danny's hair, and Danny lets the gentle force guide him, lets it tilt his head back until he's meeting Brian's eyes and blinking curiously. "Just take your time," he murmurs to the younger man. "Just follow your instincts."  
  
Danny smirks, but it's sort of soft, more teasing than anything else. "Right, because I have instincts toward dick-sucking."  
  
Brian shrugs. "You've got a dick. You pretty much knows what feels good. What's _important..._ is getting you used to it. Because once you relax, it's going to be much less scary."  
  
"Scary. Hah." But he nods anyway, looks back down.  
  
"Whenever you're ready."  
  
He's surprised when he doesn't have to wait long. Danny touches a hand to Brian's hip to stabilize himself and then leans in to press his lips against the head of his cock. They part slowly, and he feels the slick surface of Danny's teeth as they split and allow his tongue to flit out, to press flat and curious against the surface of his head. And then he's looking up at Brian immediately, as if gauging a reaction, desperately needing one.  
  
Brian gives him a little nod. "Keep going."  
  
Danny's eyes go distant for a moment, focusing on something in his mind's eye as he gives a tiny suck, just a teasing bit of friction that makes Brian suck in a quiet breath between clenched teeth. He's not trying to hide his reactions anymore, he realizes. Not when just that little sound makes Danny glance up again, eyes sparkling as they always do when he smiles. His other hand locks around the edge of Brian's thigh, gives it a little squeeze as he leans in even further, and that's brilliant, the way he tightens his lips around Brian's shaft. The way his tongue cradles it as he gives another suck.  
  
"Fuck..." Brian lets the rest of his air go in a shaky rush. "Yeah, that's...that's it..."  
  
He has to fight not to jump when Danny's hand slides around Brian's thigh and cups part of his ass, pulling him a little closer, and Brian shouldn't let him lead, not really, because it's just going to end badly, but things are getting a little tighter, a little hotter, a little-  
  
Danny gags suddenly, darts back so just the tip of Brian's cock is in his mouth, and there it is, exactly what Brian was anticipating. "You all right?"  
  
He nods, backing up enough to cough and say "Yeah, sorry, I'm-"  
  
"Don't apologize. Happens to everybody." He's still got his hand in Danny's hair, so he absently ruffles it between his fingers, hopes it's soothing in some way or another. "Just take what you can take. You've got a tongue for a reason."  
  
"Good point." He's got his determined face on now, borderline on angry that this cock got him down, and Brian just barely holds back his laugh.  
  
"Another go?"  
  
"Yeah, definitely."  
  
He's surprisingly at ease with this. It's enough to confuse Brian, to make his brow wrinkle even as his fingers tighten in Danny's hair. Almost makes the flames licking over his skin annoying, because God, how is he supposed to focus on important things, like why Danny isn't panicking, when the bastard's too busy being oddly decent at sucking him off?  
  
He's not good. Not amazing by any stretch of the imagination. But it still feels fantastic. He has an innate sense of what to do with his tongue - that's gonna help him no matter which gender he ends up with, Brian decides, sort of envies him for that. Seems to pretty quickly grasp what makes Brian's breath catch and what makes him shift in discomfort. And through it all, he realizes after a long, leisurely suck at his cock, Danny's watching him. Has his eyes right on Brian's.  
  
Brian stares right back. And it's that earnest look in Danny's eyes, the need to please, followed by the way a blush starts pricking at his cheeks because he won't look away even when he probably wants to, that's what makes Brian suck in a sharp gasp and gently pull his hands back, guiding Danny off his suddenly hypersensitive cock. "That's...that's enough," he says softly, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide how affected he actually was.  
  
Danny's clearly not buying it. He smirks up at Brian and quirks a brow. "Can't handle it anymore? You about to send a load of spunk down my throat?"  
  
"Gross." Brian gives a little nudge at Danny's shoulder, a silent command for him to lay back. "Like you'd swallow anyway. You'd probably spit it all over my face and spend the next two hours whining about how disgusting it tasted."  
  
He gives a little huff of a chuckle, biting his bottom lip. "Probably." And his eyes are flying everywhere again, trying to take in everything about Brian and his plans in a millisecond. "So, uh...did I do...what, umm, what do we do now?"  
  
 _Did I do all right?_ Brian can practically read Danny's thoughts. He sits on the edge of the bed and sighs. "Well, since you successfully brought me to the cusp of my orgasm..." He pretends not to see Danny preen a bit at that. "...I thought that perhaps we might proceed to the next step."  
  
There's a touch of silence before Danny tentatively murmurs "That's...when I get fucked, right?"  
  
"Mm. Precisely, yes."  
  
"Awesome." He thuds his head back against the mattress, one of his hands gathering a fistful of tattered sheet. He paws at it like a cat, though the steady flexing of his hand betrays not contentment but nerves. "Go ahead."  
  
Brian blinks. "...do you want me to just...go?"  
  
"Yeah, like, just...just do whatever you need to do."  
  
"All right." He breathes out a soft sigh because this isn't something to get nervous about, even if his mind wants to be. It's a quick reminder to himself - this is training. That's all it is. Job training. And it's sexuality, and that means it's as natural as breathing for people like them, so why be nervous? Especially when he's already done this so many times before for one reason or another.  
  
He reaches out, lets his hands hover over Danny's waistband for a moment, waiting for him to make a fuss, but there's nothing. Just him staring at the ceiling, slowly breathing in and out. So Brian goes. Works at the fastenings of the pants before beginning to tug them down. He snags his underwear on the way, figures he might as well wipe everything out at once.  
  
The fact that Danny's more than a little hard, that's...that's actually a little surprising.  
  
Brian stares for a moment at his best friend's cock. Flicks his tongue out to wet his lips before going for the nearby oil. "Ordinarily this shouldn't take too terribly long," he murmurs as he slathers his first three fingers to ridiculous levels of slickness. "But I'm going to be overly cautious tonight."  
  
Danny gives a little hum of affirmation, nods as well.  
  
"What you want to do - pay close attention, Daniel, I'm talking to you here - is to take your time. Feel yourself out. Only do what you feel comfortable with and build up from there." He's a little too distracted by using his other hand to prompt Danny to spread his legs to notice that there wasn't another sound of affirmation there. "Now then...this is going to be a bit cold." He touches his index finger to the ring of muscles there, works at slowly spreading the oil around it to introduce Danny to the temperature extreme. To the feeling of actually having something there, small as it is. "Talk to me, Danny."  
  
Silence.  
  
"...Danny?"  
  
More silence.  
  
Brian looks up quickly, sees that Danny is clutching the sheet in his fist so tightly that his knuckles are white, that there are small drops of red bleeding into the fabric, that he isn't even breathing. " _Fuck._ " Brian immediately pulls his hand back, flops down next to Danny, eye level with his temple. "Breathe, Danny, c'mon, let go, breathe with me, it's okay."  
  
"I can do this." It's stifled, choked, but it's words, and that's better than how unresponsive he was being. But he's still holding the sheet in a damn death grip, and that's not going to work.  
  
Brian reaches out with his dry hand and gently ghosts his fingers over Danny's knuckles, blowing out a soft shush. "I know you can. It's okay. But you need to relax first, all right? Can you do that for me?"  
  
Silence. But he feels the tension beneath his fingers start releasing.  
  
"We have all the time in the world, Dan. That's it. Just relax."  
  
And he lets all the air he was holding go in a thick, shaking gasp, hands suddenly spreading flat against the mattress, eyes shutting as tightly as they can. "Goddammit."  
  
"It's okay, Danny, just breathe. Come on. Let's get that air circulating through your brain, all right?"  
  
He nods. It sounds like he's forcing himself to breathe normally, but it's working, and it'll bring his heartrate back down to something normal, Brian knows that from experience. But there's a quiet little keen that sounds when he opens his mouth again just before the words materialize. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't say that. Please. It's okay. You don't have anything to be sorry about. There's a lot going on."  
  
"I just, like...it was weird, and there was a thing there, and there was a whole lot of shit to focus on, and I just-"  
  
"I know, Dan. I'm not mad. It's fine."  
  
Danny meets his eyes and blinks a few times, as if still trying to clear his head. "Did you freak out like that? Your first time?"  
  
Brian hesitates. "That's not important-"  
  
"Did you?"  
  
Danny's not a child. He's not. Brian has to remember that sometimes. "...no. No I didn't."  
  
That's all it takes for Danny to slam a fist down onto the bed, to spit out another "Goddammit."  
  
Or maybe he _is_ a child and is just surprisingly good at hiding it sometimes. "I was ready. I was incredibly ready when the time came, and that's all there was to it. I hadn't just...come up with the whole idea on the spur of a moment for some fast cash. Don't be hard on yourself."  
  
"What, you think I wasn't ready?" He gestures vaguely to his cock, as if it doesn't matter that it's going flaccid now. "Was there something else I could've done to _be_ more ready?"  
  
Now he's getting annoying. Brian pulls into the deeper reservoirs of his patience, where he so rarely has to tap unless he's alone with Danny for an extended period of time. "For all I know, you were adrenalized rather than turned on. Maybe nervous. I don't try to read your mind, Danny - in fact, I'd rather not come near it."  
  
Danny rolls over suddenly, nose-to-nose with him, and scowls. "Kiss me."  
  
"What."  
  
"Kiss me, you unbelieveable son of a bitch. Do it."  
  
"You didn't _want_ me to kiss you, did you forget that?"  
  
"Well, I'm telling you to do it now."  
  
"Not asking?"  
  
"Nope. Telling."  
  
"And what if I don't feel like it?"  
  
Danny reaches over, slides his fingers into Brian's hair, and somewhere beneath the annoyance and frustration there's a little shiver in the base of him, something purely chemical that makes Brian want to jump out a window. "Then I'll kiss you."  
  
"You wouldn't even make it halfway."  
  
Danny flicks his eyes all over Brian's face. And then he leans in and touches their lips together. It's a chaste kiss, barely the tiniest bit of contact, but it was a kiss, that's for sure, and the second there's a millimeter of space between their lips Danny breathes out a triumphant "Ha!"  
  
"That didn't count."  
  
Dan's eyes go wide. "It totally counted!"  
  
"My grandmother gave me longer kisses than that."  
  
"...you never met your grandma."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"What exactly qualifies as a kiss?"  
  
"Not fucking that."  
  
"Goddammit, Brian." But he guides Brian's lips to his again with that hand on his head, and this time he stays. He doesn't do anything, though. Just...keeps his lips pressed against Brian's.  
  
The fact that Danny insists he's done plenty of this is looking incredibly doubtful now. Or is it just him? Just the fact, maybe, that both their eyes are open and are staring straight ahead, making this more awkward with every passing second. Brian finally shoots an exhale through his nose before cupping Danny's face with his dry hand and gently moving his mouth against his. A soft parting, encouraging Danny to do the same. He doesn't force his tongue in - too fast, too easy for Danny to fall into another panic - but simply lets their mouths fall shut again. When he does it again a few moments later, Dan's right there with the program, leaning in a little closer.  
  
Danny's eyes are the ones that shut first, and Brian takes a moment just to memorize the details he sees this close. Relishes them. Lets them add a certain spice to the kiss just before his own eyes fall shut.  
  
Somehow he could've guessed even way back in the beginning that Danny wasn't the most patient of men, so when he feels a hand guiding his other wrist downward he makes a soft, amused sound against Danny's lips. There's a bit of awkward fumbling - Danny makes him touch his hipbone, his thigh, and even the mattress beneath his balls at first - but then there's Brian's fingers brushing against what is unmistakeably Danny's cock, and after a moment of lingering, making sure that this is exactly what Dan wants, he doesn't hesitate to gently start stroking along his shaft. The guy almost went completely flaccid in the midst of everything, after all. And a little teasing might do him some good, just the barest tickle of his fingerpads against Dan's skin.  
  
Danny gives an impatient little buck of his hips. Brian responds by sliding on top of him and keeping them secure with a roll of his own. Danny tenses for a second, just enough time for Brian to think he fucked everything up as he breaks the kiss, but then Danny is pulling him back, softly groaning against him in reckless abandon.  
  
This is new. This is extremely new. This is his best friend - hell, he's practically his brother - making soft mewling noises as Brian ever so gently teases him up. And Jesus, he's hardening fast. He half-expects Danny to just pass out from the way the blood is rushing through him. He breaks the kiss again, and this time when Danny tries to pull him back he keeps him pressed down, hand on his chest. "How does this feel?" he asks softly.  
  
"I..." Danny licks his lips, eyes quickly becoming unfocused enough to flit around the ceiling. "I-I can...like it a lot more when I'm not...focusing on the fact that it's a dude jerking me off."  
  
"Tough shit. Not all your male clients are going to be kissing you." He tilts his head to the side. "Hell, there's going to be a few of them that just bend you over and fuck the shit out of you."  
  
"W-h-how." He nervously laughs the word, but he's blushing, he can't hide that. "That's, uh...that's interesting."  
  
Brian feels a taste of amusement, fights his smile away before it can grow. "...would you like that?"  
  
"Uh-"  
  
"Somebody holding you down and using you like that?"  
  
"I-I don't know."  
  
Brian doesn't dare ask if he wants to find out. Curves his hand instead to take Danny in it, feels a little flush at the groan of approval Dan gives.  
  
As Brian leans down to press kisses along Danny's neck, tasting the sweat and dirt there, he hears him suck in a fragmented breath. "I-I...I said I wanted to come last."  
  
"Oh, you will," Brian murmurs against his skin, flicking his eyes up to watch Danny's eyelashes flutter. "That, I can promise."  
  
"Fuck..."  
  
He looks damn good like this. So fucking good. The vulnerability works with his babyface, every little twitch of his muscles and the way his lips part so resplendent in how he wears it. He presses his hardness against Danny's skinny thigh, and when Dan simply gives another little moan he grinds gently against it, eyes never leaving his face. Makes his hand instinctively double the rhythm of his hips. Learns his every little vocal cue.  
  
Something tells him he's never going to forget them.  
  
"How close are you, Dan?" he asks softly.  
  
"I, uh..." He bites his bottom lip, and Brian can't help but hope it swells tomorrow. "I-I don't know, I've...I've got some time."  
  
"Fantastic." That gives him an excuse to break away from his neck, to slither down and wrap his lips around Dan's cock without any hesitation, and _fuck,_ does Danny's head nearly hit the ceiling with how he bucks, almost sitting straight up on the bed. Those sounds are fantastic. Incandescent. Brian likes them far more than he should. Is watching him so closely that he knows he'll dream of these expressions.  
  
This is a lesson. And that's it. But maybe he can take a little more home without feeling too guilty.  
  
This time when Brian touches his finger to that ring of muscles, Danny touches his hands to his hair with a shaky gasp. "Okay," he says softly, opening his eyes to stare Brian in the eye. "I...okay, I see the difference now."  
  
He leans away from Danny's cock. "Yeah?" Teases his entrance with a slow smirk. "One day you're going to realize...that I'm always right."  
  
"God, you're an ass."  
  
"You love it. And that's why you're going to let me fuck you."  
  
"Mmmnh, I..."  
  
" _Aren't_ you?"  
  
"Shit, if you don't fuck me, I'm...I'm gonna fuck myself."  
  
An intriguing suggestion, but no, that's not for Brian to see. This is a one-time thing. Just a lesson. And that's it. "I think I can handle it."  
  
He moves slowly. Ever so fucking slowly. Teasing. Testing. Sliding in to his first knuckle and gently drawing it in a circle, encouraging those muscles to loosen ever so slowly even as he slides in a bit more. It's a dance. A game. But an incredibly important one.  
  
He takes his time even when Danny whines. "Come on, can't we just...just get to it?"  
  
"I'm not hurting you."  
  
"I know you're not, I can handle more, I swear I can."  
  
"No you can't."  
  
"Fuck you, Brian, just do it, Jesus Christ."  
  
He wants it? Fine. Brian adds another finger and listens to Danny shout out a curse, watches how he tenses and almost springs off the bed. He holds there, fingers inside of him, lips mouthing at his cock until he feels him start to relax. "Oh...holy fuck..."  
  
"Still want more right now?"  
  
"Maybe not."  
  
He goes back to taking his time, sucking at Danny's dick as he goes, taking moments to breathe soft encouragement, a "You're still okay" here and "We're almost there" there. And when Danny's full of his fingers, three of them to the knuckle, incredibly ready and incredibly stretched, Brian leaves Danny's cock with an audible pop and licks his lips and asks "Are you ready to find out why we do this?"  
  
Danny chuckles, peeks open his eyes. "You gonna throw money at me?"  
  
Brian smirks again. And then he aims for what he's been avoiding this entire time, brushing his fingers along the area until Danny gasps and arches and cries out a ragged "Brian-!"  
  
There it is.  
  
"Learn where this is, do you hear me?" He rubs at that spot. Taps it. Circles it. Everything he can to make Danny writhe like a madman. "Learn it. Ride those bastards so you can use this every fucking time. Come all over yourself for _you_ , not for their sick pleasure."  
  
"God, don't stop, Brian, please don't...don't stop..."  
  
Brian sits up in a flash, dips his other fingers in the oil and uses it to slick his cock even more than his fingers. "Good. That's good. Keep at that."  
  
"I'm not fucking faking, you bastard!" Danny shouts, grabbing a fistful of the sheets again. "Don't you fucking stop or I'll beat the shit out of you!"  
  
He ignores the thrill in his stomach. Just slides his fingers out of Danny, and before he can complain he begins the gradual process of replacing it with his cock.  
  
It's still thicker than his fingers. Thicker, a different texture, all of that, and there's no changing it. As ready as Danny was, he's still biting back a shout, grabbing at Brian's wrist where his hand is resting on his hip now, digs his fingers into it as he squeezes his eyes shut. "Fuck-"  
  
"Breathe, Danny," Brian murmurs. Bites his bottom lip so hard that it might bleed. He's tight. He's so fucking tight. So ready for him. But he has to wait. Has to move slowly.  
  
"More, please, just..."  
  
"Does it hurt?"  
  
"Fuck yeah, but I...I want _more._ "  
  
His instinct is to buck his hips, and he only just represses it. Digs his hand into Danny's jagged hipbone as he slowly moves forward, stretching, pushing...  
  
And then he reaches as deep as he feels he can go. And it's enough that when he shifts Danny gives that little gasp again, the one that's going to make every customer nearly come right there and then every time they hear it. "There?" he whispers.  
  
"Oh, _fuck_ yes!"  
  
It doesn't seem to matter that Brian wants to go slowly, to acclimate him, because the second he pulls back nearly to the tip Danny is bucking back at him, trying to spear himself on that cock all over again. Son of a bitch, this is what he's made for, isn't it? Brian stares down at him in a strange sense of wonder as he fucks him, wrinkling his brow. It's just so...so perfect, so...  
  
Danny laces his fingers with Brian's hand on his hip suddenly, meets his eyes, and Brian is gone. Fucking him hard and fast, knowing he's ready, knowing he's doing it right when Danny is working with him, meeting him in the middle of every damn thrust.  
  
Brian doesn't even have to touch his cock. Just fucking him like this, hitting that spot inside of him with every pass, that's enough to cover his stomach in a ridiculous puddle of semen that shouldn't even be possible.  
  
He has the fleeting thought that it must've been weeks since Danny beat himself off before he ducks his head and comes himself.  
  
It's not the most explosive orgasm he's ever had. He'll admit that in a second. But somehow it's one of the most emotional. The most incandescent. The most heartbreaking.  
  
They lay there panting for a few moments after Brian slips out, collapses beside him. "So that was...that was all...very good," Brian manages with a nod. "Just do that and you're set."  
  
Danny flicks his eyes all over Brian's face. Wrinkles his brow. Licks his lips. And then, even after he opens and closes his mouth several times, he just...nods. Finally manages an "Okay."  
  
He's not saying something. But Brian knows that if he pushes him, he'll never say it. All he can do is wait.  
  
Waiting doesn't give him anything.  
  
Brian finally offers the clean side of the rag he'd used earlier to clean himself off, and Danny chuckles as he wipes at his stomach. "So. You think I'm ready?"  
  
Brian shrugs. "That's up to you. Do _you_ think you're ready for something else? Somebody you don't even know? Or do you want more...training?"  
  
Danny clears his throat as he looks away. "Can I get back to you on that?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."  
  
They stay there for a few more moments before Brian reaches for his clothes. "I'm wiped."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"See you in the morning?"  
  
"Yeah, that's...totally fine."  
  
"All right."  
  
Once he's dressed, Brian gets all the way to the door before Danny calls out and stops him. "Do you think I should use...just...Dan? Don't prostitutes have fun names or whatever?"  
  
Brian looks over his shoulder and shrugs. "Yeah, I guess you'll need something. Sophistication, that's what we're going for, so probably-"  
  
"What about Danny Sexbang?"  
  
"...are...are you fucking serious?"  
  
"I think it's _perfect,_ " he says with a bright grin, tucking his arms behind his neck."  
  
"...of course you do." He turns again and heads away. "We'll talk about it in the morning, Daniel."  
  
"That's Mr. Danny Sexbang to you!"  
  
"Sure."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to use "Lady Marmalade" essentially as a way to introduce all the characters and give little insights into their lives, since we're still in prologue territory with this Moulin Rouge AU. c: This is actually a completely gen chapter - though hinted ships have been tagged for my sorting purposes - for almost everyone to meet and get everything started up. Introducing Arin as Nini, Suzy as his eventual favorite dance partner, and Barry as some kid working in the back that we never get to see. Ross? Be patient, you'll meet him eventually.
> 
> TW for gendered slurs, problematic language regarding sex workers, and an EXTREMELY brief and minor reference to potential dubcon sex!

 

It's been roughly three or so hours, Brian thinks with a glance out the window at the movement of the moon, since he left Danny's room. He still hasn't fallen asleep, hasn't even closed his eyes for more than five minutes. He's been laying here, feeling tight in his skin, like his lungs are a little too small for the oxygen he needs.  
  
He knows himself too well to pretend he doesn't know why.  
  
Part of it is that he smells like Danny. Honest to God reeks of him. It's all over him, on his wrist when he drapes his arm over his forehead, on his chest when he rolls onto his side and ducks his head down a bit, _everywhere._ It doesn't matter that he's so physically wiped because every time he so much as turns his head it's like Danny is in the room with him, and he's rocketed right back into his best friend's bedroom.  
  
Obviously sleep isn't going to happen tonight, not even after a decent orgasm and enough adrenaline to kill a cat got flushed out of his system. But that's fine. He can deal with that. He hasn't survived twenty years on the street by sleeping ten hours a night, that's for sure.  
  
He slides onto the edge of his bed with a sigh and plants his bare feet squarely on the floor. He knows where the splinters are at this point, knows when he pushes himself up to lead with his right foot rather than his left. The moon is shining so vividly through the broken glass of the hall window that he doesn't need a candle, and thank God, really, because he's pretty sure they've only got two left at this point.  
  
He pauses in the doorframe right outside their living room when he sees Danny on the couch, hands touched together as if in prayer and pressed into his lips.  
  
So does he...does he go in, or does he go back to his room? He had sex with this man. Was legitimately his first ever sexual experience. There's a chance that he fucked up their entire friendship, whether the whole thing was a 'lesson' or no, and he can't even think very hard about that possibility because just considering being without Danny is enough to make his chest start to cave in.  
  
They're best friends. Practically brothers. And if everything goes south, it's Brian's fault, isn't it?  
  
He takes a step backward, but he misinterprets the distance, lands his foot on a squeaking plank that has Danny looking up through his curtain of hair. But he smiles immediately, cocks his head to the side like a puppy. "Okay, standing in the hall and watching me? Creepy, dude."  
  
"I was _not_ watching you."  
  
"Right." Danny slides to the side, nestles himself into the corner of the arm and back of the couch so he can face Brian a little better. "Can't sleep?"  
  
Brian frowns. Shakes his head.  
  
"Me neither." His eyes sparkle as he grins. "Part of that's getting halfway there and then realizing that weird thing I was feeling was your spunk dripping out my ass, but-"  
  
"Shit." Brian presses a fist to his mouth for a second, half mortified and half hiding the shocked smile from Danny speaking so casually. "Are you fucking serious?"  
  
"Can't believe it. No cuddles, no pillow talk, no nothing. Just warm, sticky jizz all over my sheets."  
  
"Jesus Fucking Christ."  
  
They're both laughing suddenly, honest to God bent over and cackling, and it's not even that funny, but it's the comfort in the air, the fact that everything's okay right now, that Danny's not like crying or throwing a tantrum or something, that...that there's electricity in the air between them still, that platonic connection they've always had that kept them both alive, that apparently a little sexual stint isn't going to suffocate.  
  
"You owe me a new pair of sheets, bro," Danny finally manages, and Brian rubs at his eyes with one last laugh as he makes his way across the room, collapses in a heap on the other end of the couch.  
  
"I'll buy you a whole new set of furniture after everything takes off," Brian replies. The laughter dies down, but the fervor doesn't settle in his stomach, just more adrenaline quivering there until he makes use of it. He clears his throat. "If you...still want to, that is."  
  
Danny quirks a brow and smiles again, but it's the charming fake smile that he can pull out at the drop of a hat, the one that shopkeepers love and that Brian feels a little bit sad at every time he sees it. "I already got fucked by you, didn't I?" He shrugs. "Might as well get paid for it. I mean, they make an asston, don't they? Enough that Arin actually got out of this district?"  
  
Arin remains the man who would fuck anything with a pulse and would find a way to enjoy it all. He thinks Danny forgets this far too often. "This is true."  
  
"Cool. Then we need to figure out pricing. Because you're the only one that gets to fuck me for free, okay? No one else."  
  
Brian holds his eyes for a long few moments. Wonders what Danny means by that exactly. It takes some time for Brian to remember how naive his best friend is, in the grand scheme of things, that he's just enough of an idiot to miss the fact that he suggested a hint of something else in the future. "We need to figure out more than that." He reaches out, tugs at one of Danny's curls with a slow smile. "How we're going to make you look presentable, for one."  
  
"What's wrong with how I look now?" Danny almost squawks, face twisting in offense. "I'm gorgeous!"  
  
"You look like a two-penny whore. And we can't have that, now, can we?"  
  
He huffs, thumps his head back. "What exactly are we gonna do to make me look good when we don't even have money to eat?"  
  
"A looooot of water-stealing from the well. Lift a bar of soap and a bottle of oil for your hair - have I mentioned how much I hate your hair?"  
  
Danny smirks a little at that, as if being able to cause Brian some little bit of agony is something he lives for. "Can't help my heritage, man."  
  
"Fuck your heritage. I'm gonna be fighting with that hair for a week straight." He twists the curl around his finger, narrowing his eyes a bit. "...how attached are you to this length?"  
  
"...excuse me?"  
  
"It's crazy long. Like, ridiculously crazy long. Wondering if we might have better luck if people can, y'know, see the face of the man they're buying."  
  
"You're not shaving my head."  
  
"Nah, just..." He takes advantage of the comfort level between them, the bravado that Danny's got going on, and leans in, running his fingers through his hair to pull it a bit shorter. "Just enough...maybe to your cheekbones." He pulls more, until he has his fingers laced at the crown of Danny's head. "Hell, just a ponytail wouldn't be too bad."  
  
The bravado's shaking away a little. Danny's looking at Brian's face, yes, but the smile is obviously fake now, maybe a bit spooked. "We'll talk about it."  
  
"Yeah. Whatever." Brian plops back onto his side of the couch with a sigh. "...so...how far are we taking this?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Are we keeping it with us? A whore and his pimp?" He can't help but smile at that, at the thought of himself being a pimp. Jesus. Not exactly his childhood aspirations. "Or do we want to...grow a little?"  
  
Danny wrinkles his brow, shifts until he's leaning into the back of the couch, long legs curled up to his chest. "Grow like what?"  
  
"Well, just...as far as I see it, we can keep it to the two of us...or we can get some other people in on it."  
  
"A whorehouse?"  
  
"A brothel," Brian corrects. "We want to be classier than a whorehouse, yes? Draw in customers with more than a few pennies to their name?"  
  
"How would that work, exactly?"  
  
Like Brian's ever managed a brothel before. He focuses on the distance, lets his mind paint pictures and draw connections. "We'd house everyone under one roof. Everyone has a price per a certain amount of time spent with them. The workers would receive a certain percentage of their price, and the rest would go to me, to manage and invest and whatever else. We'd have to have other workers too, not just prostitutes, maybe someone to cook for us and another to tend a bar."  
  
There's a touch of silence as they think. "...how would we be different from the other brothels, though?" Danny asks. "And investing? What's even the point of that? Like, if we're trying to make as much money as fast as possible, why're we gonna spend it?"  
  
Still such a child. "Dan, if we want to have a respectable source of income after a time, we _have_ to invest the money. Not just in the company we're building, but elsewhere, so that all of our eggs aren't in a basket."  
  
Danny stares at him. "How do you know all this?"  
  
Brian smiles, shrugs a bit. "I'm inquisitive. I like asking questions, and the right people like answering them. I might not have your level of charm, but I know how to appeal to a person's ego."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"As for how we'd be different from other brothels...we wouldn't be. We'd have to figure out something to catch everyone's eye, yes?"  
  
"I thought about that after you left, actually." Danny sits up straight and tall, then, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "What if we have other entertainment? Like a show of some kind?"  
  
Brian blinks. "Entertainment," he states dryly.  
  
"Yeah! Like...like, we could get musicians, and I could sing and whatever, and maybe we have some dancers in the background, and we just make it one big show, like in the theater district!"  
  
"People go to the theater district for entertainment," Brian points out. "They come here for sex."  
  
"But what if they did both? What if...what if we spent the entire performance riling them up? Getting them thirsty? Like, good quality entertainment, but maybe while showing some skin too?" Danny leans forward, plants both hands on the couch cushion, barely avoids the hole that leads down to the painful springs. "Why do people like to go see plays and operas and shows? Because they're infatuated with the actors and actresses and singers. What if we give them a chance to have a night with us instead of just worshipping us from afar?"  
  
"...shit."  
  
"They'd pay so much money for us, Brian, I promise you, there's no way it can go wrong."  
  
Oh, it can go wrong. There's about a thousand different paths it can take to pure wrongness. But there's also just as many ways that they can make it work.  
  
Brian leans back with a sigh, tents his fingers against his lips. "...we need to change how we look for our prostitutes, then."  
  
Danny blinks. "Why?"  
  
"Well, we can't afford to hire entertainers _and_ whores, Danny, not right now. We'd need people who can perform double duty."  
  
"...do you have any in mind?"  
  
Brian meets his eyes and gives a slow smile. "Leave that to me, all right?"  
  
  
~~  
  
  
  
It takes some asking around and suspicious stares before Brian finds the person he's looking for. He's changed territory since his popularity boom, perhaps unsurprisingly, but everyone still knows him back home, can tell Brian precisely where his target now resides. No privacy, really. He wonders how many of them would speak so openly about his and Danny's current home if some assholes came out to play.  
  
He hears Arin's voice before he sees him, lets the deep bass lead him around the corner of the alley he was moving slowly down. The sun's just barely gone down at this point, still has the street under the lamp post bathed in deep golds and oranges, but there he is, standing there like he owns the block.  
  
Won't take long before he very well might, honestly.  
  
Arin's got someone on the hook, grinning broadly as he reaches out and tugs at the gentleman's belt loop. Brian can't make out all the words, but "baby," "a little more," and "worth your while" hit his ears, and they make Brian linger near the mouth of the alley as he watches the kid work.  
  
The gentleman's dapper enough, top hat and clothes that have minimal signs of wear on them, and he's looking at Arin as if entranced, cheeks mildly flushed. Brian can't help but smile. Arin has a strange sense about him, the ability to specifically pick out the men who are questioning their sexuality and to draw them in. He did that initially with Brian when they were still young teenagers. He's apparently playing his cards just fine with this gentleman too.  
  
Probably helps that he doesn't quite look like a whore either. He got his hands on some decent-looking clothes at some point, a well-fitting shirt and a vest on top of it, pants that accentuate his fuller shape rather than clinging too tightly or bagging. Could be he already has a patron.  
  
Could be he's on his way to another.  
  
The gentleman finally breaks away from Arin, biting his bottom lip as he sweeps his eyes over the chuckling younger man. But it's not enough. He tips his hat, as if Arin was a lady, before hurrying away, hand reaching to discreetly adjust his pants as he does so.  
  
Arin sighs, collapses back against the lamp post as the man rushes off, but he turns his head with a quirked brow when Brian begins to clap. His face immediately breaks into a smirk, and he laughs again. "Well well." He turns and cocks his hip out, presses it into the lamp post as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Look at you. Didn't expect to see you on this side of town."  
  
Brian can't help but smile back. "The kind of entertainment you can get here is unparalleled. That show right there, for instance." He nods to the man waiting some distance away for a carriage. "Absolutely inspiring."  
  
Arin bites the tip of his tongue through his smirk, allows one more glance to his lost customer. "He's thinking about coming back. Could've walked another block or two to wait, but nah, he wants to be right there, right where he can still see me." He chuckles. "Two minutes. I give him two minutes until his cock gets the better of him." But then he meets Brian's eyes again, tilts his head so his smooth hair brushes the line of his shoulders like a curtain. "Unless you've got a better offer for me?"  
  
"...call it a proposition."  
  
"Ooh." The way he shapes his lips around the vowel, really tastes it, is enough to make a touch of color come to Brian's cheeks. Just a brush, not enough to embarrass him. But still enough to show Arin the exact memories running through his mind of what those lips could do. "Color me intrigued." He flicks his eyes toward the building beside them. "Look, this place ain't cheap, but you get us a room, and-"  
  
"Not...not _that_ kind of proposition," Brian says, smile widening. "Honestly, the assumptions you make..."  
  
Arin quirks a brow. "Hey, any discussion's a little more fun when you're not wearing pants."  
  
That may be true, but exactly how well is Brian going to be able to focus in that situation with Arin? It's never gone too terribly well. He jerks his head toward the alley he came out of, hears Arin follow behind him with another low chuckle. He waits until they're both leaning against the same wall before he turns his head, meets Arin's dark eyes. "I may...need a man with your talents."  
  
Arin's eyes widen. He glances around the alley for a moment and Brian can almost read the kid's thoughts - _No bedroom, no, he wants me to fuck him in a fucking alley_ \- before meeting Brian's gaze again. "For what?"  
  
"A, uh." He clears his throat. "A friend and I might be starting a new business."  
  
Arin just stares at him, lips quirking into a smile. "You and Dan, huh?"  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"You have one friend. One. I've never seen you apart. Not unless you come specifically looking for me." And Brian isn't going to blush again because that'd be stupid. "A new business. Huh. And what exactly could a guy like me offer this business?"  
  
Brian flicks his eyes over Arin's face and chest for a moment, as if sizing him up. "You have some very unique talents. And we could use those."  
  
Silence. And then Arin's face breaks into a wider grin as he barks out a laugh, looks away, and crosses his arms over his chest. "Oh, this is incredible."  
  
Brian watches him. Lets him make the next move.  
  
It takes a few seconds of staring off to the side, but Arin finally looks at him again, and this time there's a cynical gleam in his eyes. "You're starting a brothel, aren't you?"  
  
That's remarkably on point for what little Brian's said about it. His eyes widen before he can stop them. "How do you figure that?"  
  
"I have a grand total of three talents that you could possibly know about." He holds up three fingers, and Brian can quietly count off those things in his head even a full three months after everything ended: flexibility, imagination, oral skills... "And they're not gonna be useful to you and Dan in any other way, are they?"  
  
"You underestimate yourself." He holds up his index finger. "One, you're smart. Smart enough that you came to the most logical conclusion in, what, three seconds? Deduced right down to it. Two, you've rubbed shoulders with some interesting people now, haven't you? And it's easy for you. You know how to draw people in even if they know for a fact they shouldn't come near you, if only because they'll lose their significant other's respect. Three...look, you're an ass, but you're still likeable. And, for some reason, people just about fall over themselves to get on your good side."  
  
Arin blinks, finally loses that winning smile he's been holding in favor of a contemplative frown. "Seriously?"  
  
Whether he's fishing for compliments or honestly unaware of the effect he has on people, Brian doesn't know. He answers anyway. "...it's a curious thing, Arin, but when you like someone, the world feels right with them. You smile, and it feels like the sun came out from behind the clouds. You're a charming, charismatic asshole with next to no regard for humanity unless they can buy you a meal, but goddamn if they don't like you anyway."  
  
Brian can see the cogs moving behind Arin's eyes, as if he's trying to figure out if he should be offended or not.  
  
"And honestly? I understand that. Because you were born out here. This is what your life's been. If someone can't wash your back, why wash theirs? If they can't keep you alive, why keep them around? I respect it." He reaches out, is surprised when Arin lets him, how he doesn't fight when Brian gently takes hold of his chin. "And you know what? I like it. And if Danny and I are starting this, we need that kind of energy around. We need somebody to watch our backs, make sure we're taking care of ourselves and not getting lost in a sea of bleeding hearts."  
  
Arin bites his bottom lip, holding Brian's gaze. "...so what's Dan doing in all this?"  
  
Brian smiles. "He's gonna be the city's newest whore."  
  
And something flicks in Arin's eyes, shuts off the niceties, and he takes a step back, severing the contact between them and letting Brian's arm fall limply to his side. "Oh, is that how you're both putting it?"  
  
"Yes, something like that."  
  
He pauses, and Brian can almost hear the thoughts rolling loudly through his head before he speaks again. "Quick suggestion. Maybe don't use the word 'whore.'"  
  
Brian blinks. Lets his mind process the statement and tries to figure out even ground to respond on. "...that would be his job, though."  
  
"His _job_ would be a sex worker. Someone whose work involves sex."  
  
"Isn't that a bit clumsy in comparison?"  
  
"Maybe." Arin shrugs. "But you don't risk insulting an entire industry full of human beings, do you?"  
  
There's a number of reasons why Brian isn't keen to let the matter go, one being the fact that he's still logically working through the idea, another being the month of distance he's had from this kid for reasons he didn't choose. "It's a word. Words only have the power that we give them. We don't _have_ to give them that power."  
  
"If someone's going to reclaim that word and take the power away, it's not gonna be you, sweetheart," he drawls, patting Brian's cheek before taking a few steps away, putting his back to him. "It's gonna be people who get that word spat at them every day, as if they should be ashamed of giving a service, filling a need, whatever else." And he stands there, arms crossed over his chest, breathing steadily but audibly. "Give your cute little friend three days in the field and I guarantee he'll be on my side, no matter how much he's drooling after your dick."  
  
He can feel himself puffing up a bit, crossing his arms over a strong chest that isn't there, pressing his feet into the ground in a solid stance. "Dan's straight."  
  
Arin glances over his shoulder and smirks. "Right."  
  
"Listen, if you get on board with us, fine, I promise to treat you with all the respect that you deserve. You'll be a colleague, not a slave. Not a whore. But you have to promise me that you'll leave Danny alone, or that's it, it's over, you'll never be seen on that side of the district again or so help me God."  
  
That distance that Arin put between them is quickly closed again as he wanders back over, one eyebrow quirked, smirk still ever-present. "Isn't it interesting," he murmurs, tilting his head, "just how protective you get."  
  
"He's like my brother-"  
  
"And yet you've never threatened me like that before today." Arin nibbles at his bottom lip, eyes burning into Brian's own. Brian watches him right back. Dares him to say what's on his mind. But he doesn't. Just chuckles and shakes his head a little. "So. A brothel. And you want me to be a part of it."  
  
"I do. And...in all honesty, I need your help."  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"Mm." He nods. "Pricing. Percentages. Building selection. Advertising."  
  
"A real business, eh?"  
  
Brian shrugs, shoving his hands into his ripped-open pockets, the ones that are there just for show rather than to hold anything. "We want to make money. Actual money. We want to turn a profit, be able to put that money toward getting out of the slums. You can't tell me you wouldn't want a chance at that."  
  
"And you really think you can do that?"  
  
"My intuition, your experience, Danny's charisma...hell, if we work at it long enough, we'll be crowned kings."  
  
Arin considers him for a few seconds longer, long enough that Brian wants to sweat, wants to break the eye contact because, if anything, it's got that buzz building under his skin, making memories flash through his brain, and that's not what he wants, not anymore. But finally... "You owe me something first."  
  
That's bad. "Is that so?"  
  
"You're the one that says I've got the experience, right?" He tosses his hair out of his eyes, a thoroughly cocky action that makes something in Brian shimmer. "So all right. Prove it."  
  
Brian stares at him.  
  
"I already know you're gonna give Danny a bigger cut of whatever he makes per session, more than you're gonna give the other workers. So cool. Give me the same cut of mine. Call it an experience bonus."  
Is that all? It might be a little painful in the beginning, when they have food to buy and alcohol to stock and whatever else, but...if it's between parting with a few extra coins and not having this man on board with them, it's not a hard choice to make, not in the slightest. "Done."  
  
"All right. You've got yourself a deal."  
  
And just like that, in one heavy exhale, everything shoots out of him, all the tension and worry that he's held deep under clenched fists and insomnia and verbal fight picking with assholes and best friends alike. "Excellent."  
  
"So, what's the next step, then?" Arin's eyes narrow a little in amusement. "You wanna see what I can do?"  
  
There's that shimmer again, the buzz in his fingertips, the instantaneous reaction that makes his eyes flick over Arin's face, from his sparkling eyes to the smirk on his lips. "...I thought I couldn't afford you anymore."  
  
The smirk shifts into a shit-eating grin, the son of a bitch. "Yeah, but, I mean, you've gotta know you're getting good talent, right? Like an audition or whatever."  
  
And they're staring right into each other's eyes, like there wasn't a reason the whole thing stopped, like there isn't an underlying current that sparks with that desire, yes, but also the taste of battery acid. Brian flicks his tongue over his lips, barely moistening them. "I think we had that audition about a dozen times already, didn't we?"  
  
There's silence. And then Arin shrugs with a snort and turns away. "All right, suit yourself."  
  
"Off to find a new client?" Brian calls after him dryly, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Arin smiles over his shoulder as he strolls. "Jealous?"  
  
That's a laugh. "We're gonna move fast. You'd better be ready to move when we are."  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
Brian watches him wander back to the streetlight he'd started at, watches him scan the street, watches him twist his body into something inviting and enticing. He turns away when the man who turned him down earlier finally begins to take slow steps back toward him.  
  
  
~~~  
  
"I got him."  
  
"No fucking way." Danny almost falls off the couch when Brian sweeps in with those words. His eyes are wide and his mouth open as he stares at Brian like he's a god or something. "What're we paying him?"  
  
Brian tries to hide the smile, he really does, but can't quite manage it. "Complete and utter shit."  
  
"Are you serious?!" Danny hops to his feet. "How'd you get him on board?"  
  
"Easy."  
  
"Tell me, c'mon, that's crazy, why the hell would he go along with it? He's already doing well for himself, right? How else did he get out of the district?"  
  
Brian wanders to the little room they use for a kitchen - given that the actual kitchen space has extremely shaky and rickety flooring, they avoid it as much as possible. He shakes out the handful of apples and the head of lettuce that he managed to lift as he talks. "Listen, he charges what he does because he has to pay for his own board, his food, whatever else. He doesn't have anyone checking to see if his clients are clean. Nobody outside the door to break in if things go bad. It's less for supply and demand, more for protection - someone looking for a cheap fuck that they can beat the hell out of knows they can pay a lot less than that easy." He finds their last clean rag and scrubs the apples down with it, biting the tip of his tongue for a moment in concentration before tossing the first fruit to Danny, watching the kid just barely catch it. "And I can give him all that easily if things go well. If it goes badly, he doesn't lose out on much.  
  
"He's got good instincts. Knows how to get out before his head's below water." He forces himself to clean the other apples slowly, methodically, making sure to get every fleck of dirt off of them. Doesn't matter that his stomach is growling so loudly, that he feels like he's going to pass out if he doesn't eat soon; if this doesn't get done now, it won't ever get done, he knows that too well. "Anyway, the kid's got a reputation. If word gets around that he's staying at our place, that's all the more people that're gonna show up for entertainment and bevs before they book their night with him. Means more money in his pocket overall."  
  
Danny's devoured about half of his apple before Brian even takes the first bite of his. Probably doesn't even notice that Brian threw him the largest, juiciest one in the first place. "It still sounds way too easy, though."  
  
"I'm a brilliant negotiator, Dan," Brian murmurs, eyes straying away.  
  
There's a moment of silence, then a chuckle. "...you blew him, didn't you."  
  
And his eyes are right back on Danny's with a smirk curling over his lips. "Jealous you weren't there to watch?"  
  
It's probably just a fluke that when Danny looks away his eyes hover on Brian's chest for a moment, followed by his hips, finally landing on the floor. "At least you had the courtesy to get some food on the way back. Didn't get completely distracted by dick." He tosses his naked apple core away, the thing nearly breaking in half from how gnawed away it was. "All right. Next step? More recruiting?"  
  
Brian shakes his head. "Don't have any more connections right off hand. No, we'd better start scouting out locations. See if there's a building we can afford before long. See who we can meet in the meantime."  
  
"Maybe Arin can hook us up with more people too?"  
  
"Unlikely." If he looks him in the eye one more time in forty-eight hours, he thinks he's liable to explode. "Buildings first. Then we'll see."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
They meet her by surprise.  
  
She's running, actually, when they meet her. It's Danny and Brian, strolling through an alley after dark, quietly talking and eyes alert. They've just come from viewing an abandoned building that Arin thinks they might be able to fix up for the brothel - it's got a doors on the rooms, at least, and that's a huge step up from their own little home, Danny thinks - and they're safe enough, dark as it is, unless somebody pulls a gun, and only the wealthy have firearms to spare at this point. There's no way in hell they'd be over here.  
  
"Is it worth it, though, if the floorboards are falling in?"  
  
Brian sighs, the sound of infinite tried patience he always seems to make around Danny, the sound that makes Danny hide a smile every time. "Unfortunately, our supply of money to buy a newer building is a bit...lacking, shall we say?"  
  
"Okay, so, patron. That's a thing." Danny shrugs. "I'll get one of those."  
  
"Danny, how in the world are you going to get a patron before you even get a customer?"  
  
He hasn't quite thought that part through, honestly, but he remedies it by immediately posing as provocatively as he can, one hand buried in his hair, the other on his cocked-out hip, head tilting back to expose his neck with a grin. "C'mon, how can they say no to a body like- oof!" And something slams into him, throws him to the ground, and maybe it's a little pathetic that it was so easy to make him lose his footing, but it's definitely more pitiful when he looks up and sees that Brian caught the thing that shoved him aside easily.  
  
It's a wriggling, rail-thin woman, in fact, and she looks like she doesn't even weigh a hundred pounds, and ouch, that's his pride that just got bruised, isn't it?  
  
"Whoa, hold on there," Brian's beginning to say, but she thrashes out of his arms and sets herself in a defensive stance, legs spread, hands curled into fists, chest heaving. As Danny slowly sits up he can't help but notice, first, what a great ass she has and, second, the tiny and stuffed bag that's peeking out from the fist closest to him. "Are you okay?"  
  
She doesn't speak. But she's shaking so hard that her inky black hair is practically vibrating.  
  
"Are you hurt? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Let me by," she finally says, and her voice is so thin, so fine, like she was a mouse turned into a human for a day. She takes a step to the right, all the closer to Danny, but it doesn't matter how small she is when the alley's barely wide enough to hold Brian and Danny side-to-side, when Brian's standing smack dab in the middle of it with next to no space on either side of him. "Just...just stand over there, and..."  
  
Danny's reaching before he even asks, but as he touches her hand and it shoots open as she jumps away he's cocking his head to the side and saying "What's this," is catching the little sack, and _Jesus,_ that's heavy, he just about drops it.  
  
And she stares at Danny for a long moment before looking at Brian, lashing out, trying to rip past him, but no, Brian grabs her by the arm and holds her there. "Hey, hold on, that's yours, I've got it, don't just leave without it." He holds out his other hand, since the girl's apparently not fighting him all that bad. "Dan, seriously."  
  
"No, Brian, this is heavy, look at it, it's-" He doesn't hesitate before he opens it, and he nearly drops it right then and there. "Holy shit."  
  
" _Dan!_ "  
  
"No, Brian, look, it's full of money! Holy shit!" He stands on his knees and stares at the girl, feels how wide his eyes are. "How the fuck did you lift this without anybody noticing?"  
  
She looks back and forth between them, eyebrow quirked, looking caught somewhere between fear and disbelief. "Uh."  
  
"I mean, yeah, I get that you're like super tiny, you can probably hide in shadows like a ninja or something, but seriously, what the fuck? How does somebody not feel this just...disappear from their belt or something?"  
  
"He...he was asleep." She rips her arm out of Brian's hold and crosses them over her chest, eyes nervously flicking around the mouth of the alley. "Look, just give it back, okay?"  
  
"You just found some sleeping guy and took his cash?" Danny asks, because that image is hilarious, if nothing else. What rich guy is just sleeping out in the street, or leaving his house unattended enough for somebody to sneak in and rob the shit out of him? "You sure you didn't drug him or something?"  
  
"Hey, look, I earned that money," she snaps, standing a little taller, even stamping her boot-covered foot into the ground. The boots are scuffed a bit, showing their age, but they still look damn fine on her. He wonders how tall she is without them on, if she'd come up to below his shoulder or something. "Not my fault he didn't wanna pay up. Now give it!"  
  
"Earned it?" Brian finally speaks again, voice soft and smooth like when he talks to the half-starved and scared-to-death dogs that'll show up at their front door. "What do you do that he didn't want to pay you for?"  
  
She watches Brian, body tensing up again. "...that's none of your business."  
  
The lights are going off in Danny's head too, though, and he stands straight and tall on his knees, can't help but be pleased that he came to the same conclusion. "Wait, are you a...a, uh..." He thinks over what he and Brian talked about the night before, bites his bottom lip before he tries the term. "A sex worker?"  
  
He's seen a lot of faces, but he doesn't think he's ever seen _anyone_ look at him like he's as dumb as she does. "...do I fuck people for money? Is that what you're asking?"  
  
He blinks. "Uh-"  
  
"Well, since you're asking so _nicely,_ yeah. Yeah I do. And I suppose you're not gonna give me the money back until I prove it, eh?" She whips her head around, and Brian flinches, leans back a bit to avoid her hair. "You too, right?"  
  
"Hey." Brian holds his hands in the air, takes a step backward. "Gay as a daisy here. Calm down."  
  
She flicks her eyes over him. Seems to decide he's telling the truth when she nods slowly, then looks over at Danny. "And you?"  
  
He feels a spark of panic burst inside of him, comes to his feet as fast as he can and almost trips over his own feet in the process. "Whoa, whoa, I'm straight, I'm definitely not gay - n-not that there's anything wrong with _being_ gay, but I-I-"  
  
"Dan here's just an idiot," Brian says dryly, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "Consider me his caretaker. Otherwise he'd be running into things and getting himself hurt."  
  
"Shut up," Danny shoots off, looking away as he rubs the back of his neck and tries to pretend it's definitely not true.  
  
There's a long moment of silence before Brian steps out of the way of the alley, presses himself back against the wall. He eyes Danny, and Dan stares for a moment before he picks up on the unspoken command, immediately holds out the bag. As the girl takes it Brian speaks again. "So why didn't he want to pay you?"  
  
"'Cuz he's a piece of trash. Just like ninety percent of my other 'clients.'" She practically spits the word. "So fine. I took the money he gave me, and then I jacked him off, and when he passed out I took the rest of what he owed me. Plus extra for, uh, harassment charges." She shrugs.  
  
Danny immediately looks at Brian. He'd probably fuck it up if he said anything, he knows that - he'd say something like _"How convenient that we're opening a brothel and need people to fuck other people for money, right? Eh? Eh?!"_ But Brian doesn't so much as glance in his direction. He furrows his brow instead. "Do you have anybody helping you out?"  
  
She stares at him. "I...no, I don't have a pimp, if that's what you're asking. Don't even _want_ one. Things go badly with them around."  
  
"But, I mean, like, do you even have somewhere to stay? Or are you just...couch-surfing?"  
  
Her hand starts squeezing around the bag, loosening and tightening like a heartbeat. Danny starts watching her a little closer; he knows a nervous tic, a twitch, when he sees one. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"It seems dangerous, that's all. Being on your own."  
  
"I can take care of myself." And he can almost see the hackles rising there on this little pixie of a girl, sees the way her muscles bunch up to run.  
  
"But what if you didn't have to? Couldn't you join a brothel or something?"  
  
"They wouldn't want me."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"They just..." She stammers for a second or two, shaking, before she shakes her head. "Look, if you're done with your questions, I'm gonna head out before that asshole wakes up and comes after me, is that cool?"  
  
Brian doesn't move into her path, doesn't do a single threatening thing. Just holds her eyes and speaks again. "What if one of them gave you a chance? A brothel?"  
  
And in a second, she goes a bit slack, staring at Brian with wide eyes.  
  
"A roof over your head, food, client screening...what if they tried you?"  
  
She wrinkles her brow. "...do...do you know a guy or something?"  
  
He smiles at her. "I _am_ the guy."  
  
"You don't look like that kind of guy."  
  
"You saying you don't want to take a chance?"  
  
For a moment she just stands there. Breathes in the night air. Eventually she looks at Danny. "You his partner?"  
  
Danny's cheeks flush. "I'm, uh, one of his workers, actually."  
  
She looks over him. "...not much competition for my own business, are you?"  
  
He should get mad, but really it's sort of funny to hear some tiny woman - and that's pressing it, she looks like she might be barely eighteen at this point - implying that anyone would pick him over a beautiful girl like herself any day. So he smiles, glances down to chuckle before meeting her eyes again. "I don't have a luscious pair of baps, if that's what you mean, no."  
  
She looks back at Brian. "Am I signing a contract?"  
  
"Let's...say no, for the first three months. The only thing you'd be agreeing to is giving me a share of the money."  
  
"How much?"  
  
"We can talk." He shrugs. "But you could back out at any time."  
  
She drops her head, starts pacing back and forth, and seconds tick by, and Danny has no idea how Brian can just stand there, so still and quiet, when Danny's about ready to jump out of his skull from the waiting and the silence. "I've never..." She cuts off her sentence, pauses her steps, and finally whirls around to face Brian again. "One more thing."  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"I get to have _this..._ " She pulls a long knife from a sheath under her skirt that makes Danny fall back a step with a whispered curse. "...on me at all times. You know. In case you don't screen the right client."  
  
Brian doesn't even flinch, the son of a bitch. "Done."  
  
"You've got yourself a deal."  
  
"What's your name, then?"  
  
"Suzy." She tucks the weapon away again, tosses her hair out of her eyes as she shakes his extended hand. "Nice to meet you, boss."  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Actually getting the building isn't cheap, just as Brian expected. There's someone that owns the perfect one, for example, and he's a crunchy sort of thing, strong and a bit twitchy and eying Danny way closer than he should be. When the final deal is being made, Brian makes it a point for Dan to be off somewhere on the opposite side of the district.  
  
Doesn't change the fact that the price the man quoted the other day, the one that Brian, Danny, Arin, and Suzy all lifted and pooled funds for, suddenly goes up. "There's been interest from another client," the owner simply murmurs. "What can you offer me that he can't?"  
  
And, long story short, he might not be able to sit down for a week, might have bite marks littering his chest and scars on his belly that won't ever heal completely, but they have a building, and Brian has absolutely no qualms about telling the man that if he ever sees his face on this property again he won't be responsible for his actions.  
  
It's sizeable, definitely something respectable to start with. It has two floors and two balconies - something that really blows Danny's mind, like the ten-year-old he is inside, as he stands on his tiptoes outside one and shouts about how he can see the harbor all the way from here - and a vast front room that Brian sees a ridiculous amount of potential in. There's room for a bar, for some tables...hell, he thinks they might even be able to set up a small stage, once they start expanding.  
  
Perhaps most importantly, there's a fair number of rooms they can convert to bedrooms, all of them far back enough from the main room to muffle any interesting sounds that might fill the air.  
  
"Furniture," Arin murmurs somewhere from behind Brian, and he glances toward him, quirks a brow. "Furniture, wallpaper, sconces...we've still got a hell of a lot of work ahead of us, don't we?"  
  
Brian quirks a brow. "You backing out, kid?"  
  
Arin smirks. "Like I'm not gonna be your fastest cash cow here to get everything set up."  
  
"Ego much?" It's Suzy, wandering in from the kitchen with a dust-covered rag and dirt smeared over her forehead. "What've you got that the rest of us don't, huh?"  
  
"Uh, natural sexual magnetism, maybe?"  
  
"Don't tell that to Mr. Sexbang upstairs," Brian murmurs dryly. "He'll take it as a challenge."  
  
The other two aren't even listening to him. Suzy tucks the rag in her belt as she takes strong, purposeful strides toward Arin. "Is that so? You're the only one with magnetism, huh?"  
  
"Duh?"  
  
She flicks her eyes over his face. Nibbles for a moment at her bottom lip. "...three nights. Taking as many clients as we can. Winner's the one who's got the most money in their pockets at the end of the third night."  
  
Arin is studying her just as intently, though his smirk hasn't vanished, not for a second. "What exactly does the winner get?"  
  
"The awareness that they're top dog around here."  
  
"Except I already know I am." He crosses his arms over his chest. "Give me something more interesting."  
  
"Interesting?" Suzy breathes a laugh. "Oh, you want _interesting?_ "  
  
"Is that beyond what you're capable of?" Arin shoots right back.  
  
She takes a step closer, until they're almost flush against each other, but neither of their expressions change. Brian watches, eyes widening a bit. They're actors, that's for sure. Perfect masks at all times. "Winner gets half the loser's wages for the first week once this whole thing gets off the ground."  
  
"For the first three weeks."  
  
"Two weeks."  
  
"Done." He extends a hand, and Suzy bounces back a step to take it. "Say goodbye to your money, sweetheart."  
  
"Don't be so sure, bitch," her tinkly voice chimes back as she turns and makes her way to the next room to continue her cleaning.  
  
Brian watches as Arin watches her leave, his smirk softening for a moment. "...exactly how many battles for dominance can I expect here?" Brian asks.  
  
Arin jumps as the words interrupt his thoughts, whirls to stare at Brian for a second before scoffing. "Dominance? Really? Like I'd get pulled into something as stupid as that."  
  
"...so about twenty-eight battles."  
  
"Yeah, give or take."  
  
"As long as it doesn't get in the way of your jobs."  
  
"No problem. I'm better than that." Arin glances over his shoulder before looking straight ahead again. "So, uh, have you noticed that guy that's walked back and forth past the building about six times in the last three minutes?"  
  
Brian blinks, begins to glance over his shoulder.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Brian-" Arin's voice makes Brian jerk back into position. "-didn't you learn to be a little more discreet than that? Fuck."  
  
"No, I guess I missed that part of my education," he muttered back. "How am I supposed to notice the damn guy if I can't even look?"  
  
"You can look, just...just...slowly. Right. _Now._ "  
  
He goes slowly, his muscles feeling stiff and annoyed, thinking he has to look like a complete idiot, but he catches sight of the guy anyway. _Kid, really._ Is he even eighteen yet? He's staring down the street, eyes wide and distant, before he turns his head and realizes that he's being watched.  
  
He doesn't bolt, like Brian expects. Instead his cheeks flame up - it's so fast, it's got to be a record - and he stares for a long few seconds before ducking his head and starting to walk away.  
  
"He's cute," Arin says faintly.  
  
"He's just a kid," Brian shoots back.  
  
"Really? So was I when you fucked me, then, eh?"  
  
And the rush of anger is so sudden, so bitter as it fills his mouth, that when he rounds on Arin and spits out a "Shut the fuck up" he doesn't want to see the effects, just lets his feet carry him to the front door and swings with the momentum that opens it, planting his feet on the cobblestone outside of it. "Hey!"  
  
The kid looks over his shoulder, keeps walking for a few seconds before he comes to a stop, blinking. "Me?"  
  
"Yeah." He lifts his head a little, tucks his hand into his pocket. "You okay? You, uh...you've been walking around in front of here for a while?"  
  
The guy opens and closes his mouth for a few times, glancing down at the ground with his bright blue eyes before he clears his throat. "Yeah, I...about that..."  
  
"It's kind of creepy." Arin, the son of a bitch, has never once been put off by Brian's words, so it's no surprise that he didn't start now, that he wandered over to lean against the opposite doorframe. "Sort of like you wanna come in or something."  
  
Brian frowns at Arin, but it seems to strike something in the kid in the way he chuckles. "Sorry, I didn't mean to creep you out or anything."  
  
"It's fine." Arin thumbs toward Brian. "Once you've been around this guy when he goes off on his ten-minute rants about the fragility of human beings, nothing really puts you off anymore."  
  
Arin and the kid chuckle, and Brian simply frowns some more. Big surprise.  
  
"Do you need anything?" Arin asks. "Just felt like checking out some hot guys? What's up?"  
  
"Oh, no, I'm-"  
  
"Straight?"  
  
"No, I just...I don't even know..." And he stammers for a few seconds more before he comes to a full stop, squares his shoulders, and looks at Brian and Arin with such determination that it's incredibly hard to keep from smiling. "I really need a job, actually, a-and some people down the street said that you guys were hiring, and I sort of...feel like maybe they were laughing at me when they said it and all, but...but they _did_ say that this was just opening up and that you needed people and-"  
  
"Slow down," Brian finally interrupts. He's still holding his serious expression, but he's pretty sure that his eyes are sparkling, that the little sounds coming from Arin are repressed snickers. "Did they even tell you what we're opening up here?"  
  
"I..." He bites the tip of his tongue, winces. "I didn't ask."  
  
"...uh-huh." He glances toward Arin, who's ducking his head and trying to hold back the shaking of his shoulders. "...how old are you, kid?"  
  
"Seventeen."  
  
"You're pretty S.O.L., then, because this? It's a brothel. And I'm not taking anybody on if it's going to get my ass thrown in jail."  
  
The kid's eyes grow. "A-a brothel?"  
  
"Oh, don't look so scandalized," Arin finally says, amusement on the edge of his tone. "Like you've never seen a place like that before. You're young. Probably popped your cherry already. And you're cute enough that I wouldn't be surprised if somebody gave you a discount anyway-"  
  
"Arin."  
  
"What? He is."  
  
Brian huffs before he looks back at the kid. "See, I don't really have a place for anybody right now unless they can work for me. Sorry, kid. But I wish you the best of luck, yeah?"  
  
He goes to shut the door once Arin slips back inside and erupts into laughter, but he's only got it halfway closed when the kid is slamming into it, one hand holding it open and his eyes turned up pleadingly. "Look, you don't understand, I really _really_ need something, and if I don't get it-"  
  
"I can't help you," Brian says slowly, emphasizing each word to get it through his head. "It's not worth the risk."  
  
"Look, I haven't eaten in days," the kid presses. "I can't sleep because I just know people are waiting for me to look the other way so they can beat me up at night and take my stuff. And I need. That. Money."  
  
"Why? How do you need it more than anybody else, eh?" And it's cold, he knows that, but he leans down a bit and lowers his voice and almost whispers his next words, and watches to see what the kid's made of. "Why the hell should I care?"  
  
"My..." He crumples a little, even breaks eye contact, but after a shaky breath he goes on. "My best friend got picked up three days ago. He stole from the wrong guy, and he got thrown in prison, and...a-and I need the money to get him out."  
  
"You really think they'll keep him there until you get the money they want? You really think they won't just stop feeding him, whatever? You're some kids on the street. Why do they care?"  
  
"I don't know, but I can't just..." He finally meets Brian's eyes again, and his face is so set, so serious, that Brian can't help but feel something warm in him. "I have to try."  
  
Brian flicks his eyes over his face in silence. Thinks about Dan. Pictures Dan's slight frame even smaller, until he could count every bone just from sight alone. Bruises all over him. His hair and teeth falling out. Near death on a piss-covered dungeon floor and shakily trying to whisper his name.  
  
He's not even aware of where he gets the words to ask "Can you cook?"  
  
The kid's eyes widen.  
  
"Can you cook and clean and keep this place looking decent?"  
  
"I-I-"  
  
"Because if you can, I'll give you a room, I'll give you food, and I'll give you money, and I won't even make you wear a stupid maid's outfit, but you've got to pull your weight, do you understand? You're not making me any money. I don't _have_ to keep you around."  
  
"No, no, I understand, I-I'll do whatever you want, I promise!"  
  
"Good." He pauses. "What's your name, anyway?"  
  
"Barry."  
  
"Barry. I'm Brian. Where's your stuff?"  
  
He points vaguely outside.  
  
"Fine, get your stuff and get to work."  
  
He shouldn't feel so good about himself from how quickly Barry darts away, his face beaming and his entire body suddenly fueled by purpose. He hasn't done anything special, after all, and it's probably going to end up backfiring, in all honesty. But when Barry's back seconds later with a tattered bag that's falling apart in his hands and this open, honest face staring up at him, he figures that hey, what the hell, if the rest of them are getting a chance at a new life he might as well bring all the other little starved puppies along for the ride.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arin's got this thing where he loves pushing Brian's buttons, apparently. Could be about how he wants to fuck Danny. Could be about why Brian stopped fucking him. Could be just about anything. But goddamn, he's getting on Brian's nerves tonight.
> 
> Just a quick smutty drabble of a few thousand words to answer any questions about these two and the relationship they had in the past.

It's not really an office yet, Brian thinks, but it'll do for now. They haven't even opened for customers yet, after all, so the fact that he has a desk and a chair at all is pretty amazing. Benefits of a partially-furnished building.  
  
He exhales slowly as he sits down behind it. If he squints a bit he can almost see the entire surface covered in papers and notebooks, filled to the brims with accounts and evidence of a ridiculous amount of money in his coffers.  
  
It's a heady sort of thing to imagine, if he focuses hard enough, having that degree of power in his hands, running an entire business and making it successful...he's only twenty years old, would only just been recently done with an apprenticeship if he had any class to his name. But it's the thought that he has four other lives under his care right now, that he's ultimately the one responsible for their safety and livelihood, _that's_ what gets him. And his whole life he's never been conscious of his fear, has written it off easily and only felt it manifest as the adrenaline in his calves telling him to run...but he feels something in his gut, like a wild dog eating away at him, and he covers his eyes with a groan, thinks he might be able to scrub it away.  
  
“Boss Man?”  
  
It's probably a testament to just how distracted he is by the feeling that Arin could open the door without him hearing. Brian drops his hands with a huff. “Is that your new name for me?”  
  
Arin has that normal little smirk that he always wears, but his brow is furrowed, showing some sense of confusion or maybe concern that makes Brian's defenses skyrocket. “Maybe.” He walks into the room. “You gonna order me not to call you that?”  
  
“You kidding?” He scoffs. “The second I order you not to do something you'll do it, what, twice as often?” Brian flicks his eyes to the pouch in Arin's hand. “What do you have for me tonight?”  
  
Arin tosses the pouch, and it lands with a heavy clash on the desk. “Pretty decent night, if I say so myself.”  
  
He's not kidding. Brian blows out a low whistle when he opens the bag and runs his fingers through the bills and coins. “Not bad, Arin, not bad at all.”  
  
He grins, sits on the edge of the desk. “Told you I'd be your biggest cash cow.”  
  
“I see that.” He pours it all on the desk, begins sorting everything into piles. “You take your cut already?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Brian goes through that long sorting process for a few moments before he glances up, notices Arin is watching him. “You need something else?”  
  
He shrugs. “I was just curious about something.”  
  
Given their past history that could be any number of things. Brian watches him right back, steeling himself. “Shoot.”  
  
“So about Danny.”  
  
Shit.  
  
“Look, we all know the kid's a virgin, okay? Is that how you're selling him, or are you just hoping he'll fumble himself into giving somebody a good time?”  
  
Brian considers the best way to approach the answer. “...the situation's been taken care of.”  
  
But of course Arin's not going to accept that crock of shit, what was he thinking? “Dude, Danny's a goddamn freighter of bravado. You really think he's gonna be able to find a clit without a fucking flashlight?”  
  
“Arin, I'm telling you-”  
  
“I'm just saying, y'know, I could give him a crash course in everything he needs to know.” And he's got that cocky smirk of his, the one that always makes Brian want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. “I'd even do it for free, my personal favor to you.”  
  
But all Brian can think about is that Arin's been stalking after Danny's dick since they were fifteen years old, that Brian's gone out of his way more times than he can count to keep Arin from cornering Dan and scaring the shit out of him with all the things he wants to do to him. That half the reason he slammed Arin against a wall and kissed him for the first time, let Arin use him as a way to get all that energy out and let Brian use him in return, was just to keep Arin's hands off of Dan in the first place.  
  
And suddenly the anger and annoyance is churning up so hard and so fast that Brian thuds his fist on the desk, sucks in a sharp breath, and growls “I took care of it, Arin.”  
  
It takes a long moment of silence for Brian to know that Arin heard every little underlying statement in that sentence.  
  
Arin laughs, low and a bit dangerous, and Brian's other hand slowly tightens into a fist. “Oh, that is _priceless._ ” Brian looks up, meets his eyes, tries to silently intimidate him into shutting up, but no, when's a look like that ever stopped him? Arin starts talking a little higher, a little smoother, and Brian immediately knows he's being mocked. “Dan's _straight,_ Arin, stop fucking with him, you're gonna scare him and make him have one big happy gay panic of a breakdown. How 'bout I fuck you out of the goodness of my heart, huh? But only until I get spooked too much 'cuz God knows I can't just have a little fun without making it complicated. While I'm at it I guess I might as well fuck that completely straight friend I've been slobbering for since I had my first wet dream, just as long as _Arin_ doesn't get him!”  
  
“Shut up!” Brian just about bellows the words, comes to his feet and stares straight into Arin's unflinching eyes. “What the fuck is your problem?”  
  
Arin slides off the desk, gets right in his face with an amused little sneer. “You like telling lies, Brian, and you twist them around until they suit you best, don't you? You say he's straight. Did you fuck him?”  
  
He flares his nostrils. “...yes.”  
  
“Did he come?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Did he beg you not to stop?”  
  
God, did he. Brian breaks eye contact finally, looks at the wall. “Yes.”  
  
“Then you and me both know there's no way in hell that he's straight.”  
  
“Look, I'm not gonna police Dan's fucking sexuality, all right?”  
  
“Nah, you're right, you're just gonna fuck him and not even give me a chance to flirt.”  
  
“Dan can flirt with you anytime he decides he wants you, I'm not gonna stand in the way.”  
  
“Oh, can he? How often does he flirt with you?”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“He's basically your brother and you fucked him anyway, very nice. Your rules don't apply to you. Good to know that, Brian.”  
  
Brian glares at him. “Is that the whole reason you came in here tonight? To get my permission to have sex with Dan out of the goodness of your own heart?”  
  
And Arin gives him a toothy grin, arms spreading wide. “Hey, I just wanna fuck _something._ Doing Dan just seemed like it'd take out two birds with one stone.”  
  
“You spent all night fucking.”  
  
“Aren't I allowed to wanna do it on my own terms?”  
  
“You wanna fuck something? Seriously? That's it?”  
  
“Yeah, why not?”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Arin watches as Brian gathers the money, sweeps it right into the same sack Arin brought him, locks it away in the desk and pockets the key. He blinks. “You're serious.”  
  
Brian just looks at him.  
  
“You're gonna hold me at arm's length this whole time, then you just decide 'Fuck it'?”  
  
“Two birds with one stone, right?” he drawls, walking past him, feeling more than a little gratified when he hears Arin immediately follow. “You wanna fuck something, I wanna shut you up. I think it works out great.”  
  
The only response is Arin's chuckle behind him when Brian locks the office door and leads him on.  
  
It's late, of course. Suzy's already turned in her money and gone to bed, and Barry crashed immediately after dinner and would probably sleep until sunrise, poor kid. But the one thing Brian's hoping to avoid meets them in the hall, perks up a bit. “Hey Brian!” Dan, of course, and Brian can almost feel the smugness rolling off of Arin. “Hey, I wanted to ask you something, can we-”  
  
“Later, Dan,” he says as he slides past him. “I'll come find you later, yeah?”  
  
“Uh.” When Brian glances over his shoulder he sees Arin sweeping his eyes over Dan's frame, feels that slow burn of annoyance start all over again as Dan gives a tentative smile to Arin. “Cool?”  
  
“Later, Dan,” Arin says a bit mockingly with that smirk of his, and Brian doesn't think, just snaps out and grabs Arin's arm and jerks him after him.  
  
Arin doesn't fight it, keeps pace just fine, lets Brian nudge him through his bedroom door and shut it behind him. “You gonna lock it?” Arin teases, and Brian curses under his breath. The novelty of having a door is overwhelming enough; the lock is a luxury he never once expected to have. He flicks it closed and turns to look at Arin. “Take off your clothes.”  
  
“Excuse me?” Arin chuckles. “You're not exactly my boss after hours, you know.”  
  
“You like it when I'm the boss,” Brian says, quirking a brow. Arin doesn't correct him. Just holds his gaze. “Take. Off. Your clothes.”  
  
Arin huffs before going for the buttons on his shirt.  
  
“Good boy.” Brian ignores the annoyed glare from Arin at the phrase, just goes to remove his own shirt as well. “How clean have you been?”  
  
“They want me for a night, they wear a condom.”  
  
“Good.” The condoms are halfway across the building right now. Brian had no illusions that he'd be fucking anybody, not when he was supposed to keep his head on straight, get everybody else plenty of profitable sex instead. But this was happening, apparently, and Brian wasn't going to lie and say that he didn't want it, that he hadn't been wanting it again for months now.  
  
As more and more of Arin's skin comes into view Brian feels that blooming warmth somewhere inside of him, exhales shakily, decides he doesn't care that Arin heard it and grinned cheekily at him. No, it's just...  
  
“Miss me, Brian?” Arin asks, low and husky.  
  
That's it exactly. He really did miss the shit out of him.  
  
Brian crosses the room and cups Arin's cheek in his hand, but the second Arin starts leaning in Brian turns his head, starts pressing warm kisses to Arin's neck – he knows the kid's weaknesses – and feels his knees just about buckle, feels Arin's fingers dig into his arms. “Bastard,” he whispers, and Brian simply hums in affirmation, flicks his tongue out to trail long and leisurely up the column of his neck to his ear. “What do you want?”  
  
Brian nips at Arin's earlobe, lathes it with his tongue. “I should be asking you the same question.”  
  
Arin chuckles, pressing his fingers so deep into Brian's back that he feels his muscles shiver in pleasure. “I don't give a shit as long as some fucking happens, so tell me, Brian,” and then he's rolling their hips together, and Brian murmurs a low sound of appreciation at feeling Arin already growing hard against him, “what...do you want?”  
  
He gently scrapes his teeth over the shell of Arin's ear and just about absorbs the kid's moan straight through his skin. “Ride me.”  
  
“Oh, _fuck_ yes...”  
  
Brian tugs at Arin, backs up until he can climb onto his bed, slowly kneewalk backwards. “You're still wearing far too many clothes for this, Arin.”  
  
“So impatient,” Arin teases, eyelids low and languid. “Haven't you ever heard of a little thing called foreplay?”  
  
“I know you, Arin,” he murmurs, resting back on his elbows as he trails his eyes down Arin's body as his pants get pulled away. “I give you leeway for foreplay, we don't get anywhere for a good few hours.”  
  
Arin climbs onto the bed on his knees, grins jauntily. “You complaining?”  
  
“Not in the past.” Brian waves him forward with a few fingers, can't help but grin when Arin falls on his hands and knees and crawls toward him. “But we don't have hours, exactly, do we?”  
  
“Ah...” His voice is just a low bass, thick and warm and going straight to Brian's cock, just like it always did. “You have to get to your cute little boyfriend, don't you?” he asks when he flops onto his stomach between Brian's legs, starts working the zipper on his pants.  
  
“He's not my boyfriend,” he murmurs warningly as he threads one hand through Arin's hair, feels the silky clean strands between his fingers with a certain sense of wonder.  
  
“Mm-hmm.” Arin gives a sharp tug at the pants, pulls them down Brian's legs easily, plants a few kisses on his thighs as he goes. “You have this unerring habit of fucking young, impressionable boys and refusing to call them your boyfriends, don't you?”  
  
Oh, this is _not_ the time to get into this, not when Brian's just a few minutes away from being inside of Arin again. “Arin...”  
  
“Good thing you didn't take my virginity,” he says dryly. The pants get tossed aside, and he's right back between Brian's legs, cupping his hips in his large hands, nipping gently at the skin around his happy trail. “Otherwise I'd think you were a serial dater.”  
  
“We're not talking about this right now,” Brian presses.  
  
“Oh, we're not?” Arin drawls as he glances up at Brian, eyes clearly amused even as he watches him through his eyelashes as he sucks a hicky right into the skin of Brian's thigh. When he slides his hands up both of Brian's thighs and gives a little squeeze to the tight muscles there he can't help but tilt his head back a bit, groan softly. “Funny. Every time I've ever tried to talk about it, you run right the fuck away, don't you?”  
  
Brian bites his bottom lip, feels Arin's breath ghost over his cock, swears he wants to kick him when Arin laughs at how it twitches just from that alone. “You don't wanna know why.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
“'Cuz it's...it's something you won't understand.”  
  
There's the sound of Arin spitting into his palm, and then his hand's wrapped around Brian's cock, slowly teasing him up to full hardness. “Try me.”  
  
Brian pulls fistfuls of his sheets into his hands with a huff, tenses up completely as he fights the words, but no, it's not working, Arin's got him laid out on a fucking platter, is slowly working down any of those boundaries he put up minutes before. “It got too hard, Arin.”  
  
“Too hard?”  
  
“I-I can't just...I don't fuck people for kicks, okay, I'm not...”  
  
“Not _what?_ ” He punctuates the statement with a rough tug, one that makes Brian's hips buck, his back arch.  
  
“I'm not _you._ ”  
  
And he thinks that Arin's gonna back off, glare at him, start a fight, but no, he just reaches out, rolls Brian's balls between his fingers and sucks another gasp out of him. “Good. You're talking, what a fucking radical concept.” He leans down and gently sucks at the head of Brian's cock, all hot and wet and all too perfect, exactly what he likes. He pops off it to tongue at his slit, and the quiet murmur he makes tells Brian he found a drop of precum there. He's always been a fucking slut for that. “So you're not me. So it got hard. Keep going. I wanna understand for once, c'mon.”  
  
Brian groans, feeds his fingers back into Arin's hair with a sigh. “Look, I... _fuck,_ Arin...I-I got a little too deep, okay? That's just...that's how it happened, and you weren't there, and that's okay, I get that. You're aromantic, that's just how you are, but I couldn't...just...pretend that all I wanted was fucking, Arin.”  
  
Arin looks up at him, he realizes once it's been a few seconds since Arin's tongue's been on him, and Brian holds his eyes with all the bravery he can manage, quirks a brow. “...gray-romantic.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I'm gray-romantic, Bri.” He hasn't heard that nickname in ages, tightens his grip on Arin's hair slightly. “Not aro.”  
  
It's still there, fuck, it's all still there, bubbling right under the surface, and Brian can't keep looking at him, has to flop back flat on the bed and shoot out a deep breath before he feels all those trembling little fizzles again. “So...so would you ever...?”  
  
“...I love you, Brian, but not-”  
  
“Not in that way.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
He knew that going into this tonight. Brian closes his eyes, tries to catch his breathing, feels Arin nuzzle his thigh and lets his muscles slowly relax. Okay. That's...that's fine. “...still wanna ride me?”  
  
He feels Arin nod against him.  
  
“When was your last client?”  
  
“'Bout an hour ago.”  
  
“You still stretched out?”  
  
“Mm-hmm.”  
  
“C'mere.”  
  
Arin crawls to straddle him as Brian reaches for the same bowl of oil he used with Danny, slicks up a few fingers. “But I-”  
  
“I have to make sure,” Brian murmurs, and Arin spreads his legs instinctively when he reaches for him. He starts with two fingers pressing inside of him, feels his cock twitch again at Arin's immediate moan, at the way he rolls his hips and tries to spear himself on those fingers just a little more. “Little slut.”  
  
“Just a little,” he says with a small crooked smile, and Brian watches him, the way his eyes are closed, his lips are parted, his skin is just a wee bit flushed. Fucking gorgeous.  
  
But it's true, he's still incredibly stretched out, incredibly ready. Brian still moves with caution to the third finger, and as he does he tilts his head toward the oil. “Get me ready, Arin?”  
  
“Yeah.” He rubs the oil all over one of his hands and immediately strokes Brian, much quicker and easier now. He still knows every single little thing Brian likes, he realizes, the curve on the upstroke, the thumb against his slit, the pressure against that thick vein...Brian bites his bottom lip to hold in his groan, keeps his focus on Arin and Arin alone.  
  
“Bri...”  
  
“Yeah, love?”  
  
“Please, man, if you don't let me fuck you, I think I'm gonna die.”  
  
Brian can't help but laugh quietly as he carefully moves his fingers out of him, flexes them a little to relieve the almost suffocating pressure that'd been around them. “Eager much?”  
  
“Always eager for you,” Arin breathes as he positions himself, and then as Brian's dealing with the little stab to his heart with that comment Arin's suddenly sinking down on him, and they're both moaning low in their throat at the exact same fucking time.  
  
He slowly works himself down, taking in more and more of him until Brian's practically choking, grabbing at Arin's knee and squeezing it desperately. “Yeah, that's...oh yeah...”  
  
“Mm...” Arin throws his head back and bites his bottom lip, the picture perfect slut, so desperate, so needy, so everything. And that's before he even starts to move. Once he starts fucking himself on Brian he already knows there's no way he's gonna last more than a few minutes.  
  
Fuck. He wanted this to last for an hour.  
  
Brian's hands slide up Arin's legs and grip his hips, feel all the soft flesh there that he can dig his fingers into until he leaves bruises. But Arin's touching his fingers, rubbing them gently, loosening their pressure with soft coaxing sounds, and Brian remembers, right, bad for business, this is just...  
  
He has a thought suddenly, licks his lips as he looks up at Arin again. “I'm not paying you.”  
  
Arin laughs.  
  
“Seriously, this isn't...counting toward your bet with Suzy.”  
  
“Oh Brian...” He opens his eyes and smirks down at him, pressing his hands into his stomach to stabilize him. “I'd never make you pay to fuck me.”  
  
He's a liar. This isn't gonna happen again, he knows it, just like with Dan, it's a one-time-thing, something to get their frustration out, to fix every unspoken thing that never got said, and if Arin has to make the excuse that Brian can't afford him again in the future to avoid it then he'll go with that.  
  
At the same time...Arin was always willing to have a relationship like this, fuckbuddies, nothing else. Brian can't help but wonder if maybe he's strong enough this time.  
  
Arin starts bouncing all the sudden, fucking himself fast and hard, and Brian chokes out another groan, every sense honing in on that goddamn incredible pleasure that's whipping through him. “God, Arin-”  
  
“Do you wish I was Dan?”  
  
The question is so abrupt, asked so teasingly, that Brian's eyes fly open and meet Arin's twinkling amused ones. “What the fuck does that mean?”  
  
“Right now? You wish it was Dan riding you?”  
  
“That's...that's absolutely-”  
  
“Or do you wish I'd brought him along too? So you could fuck both of us? You buried inside of me, sucking Danny off the same time – don't lie to me, Brian, you're more of a cockslut than I'll ever be when it comes to beej.”  
  
God, he really wishes Arin wasn't talking about that, because now he can't help but see it, Arin riding him, Dan sitting on his face, Arin sucking the most beautiful hickies right into Danny's neck as he arched his back, moaned out those beautiful melodic sounds.  
  
“You wish he was listening at the door? Maybe jacking himself off?”  
  
“ _Fuck,_ Arin-”  
  
“Maybe whispering your fucking name, Brian?”  
  
He can't take it anymore. He sits straight up, wraps his arms around Arin and pulls him in. Their lips almost collide before he remembers no, bad idea, butterflies and fizzles and whatever else, and he goes for the neck all over again, is rewarded when Arin practically cries his name loud and thick into the air. Oh yeah, everybody's gonna fucking know what they're doing tonight, there's no point in hiding it, not anymore, not when they're so fucking close. Brian wraps a hand around Arin's cock and jacks him, hard and fast, bucking his hips straight into Arin's, knowing Arin's twisted to find that sweet spot when he groans rhythmically with every thrust.  
  
He's grabbing at Arin's sweaty skin, probably pressing a few bruises right around his spine, when Arin comes first, spraying thick, hot cum all over his stomach, and the bastard starts squeezing his muscles right around his cock so suddenly that Brian chokes out his name against his neck, fills him up with his own explosive release.  
  
And for a moment they just...cling to each other tightly, arms wrapped around each other, breathing slowly evening out as they come down into the afterglow.  
  
Arin's the one that chuckles first. “We've got jizz sandwiched between us, man.”  
  
“Your fault,” Brian murmurs. “Definitely your fault.”  
  
“Yeah, you're not the one who jacked me off or anything.”  
  
Brian chuckles, but when he turns his head he sees the way Arin is watching his lips. And when Arin leans in he presses a hand gently to his chest, holds him at bay. “Arin, don't...”  
  
Arin bites his bottom lip, maybe even pouts a little. But he nods. “I get it.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
They hover there, breathing the same air, sharing the same heat, before Arin sighs. “Man, now I have to fucking wash up before bed.”  
  
“Good luck,” Brian says dryly. “Barry hasn't been to the well yet.”  
  
“Fuck Barry.”  
  
“Hey, he's a kid.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah...” Arin extricates himself from Brian's lap and goes around collecting his clothes, apparently completely unconcerned with the amount of fluids the both of them are completely covered in. “...well, Boss Man, thanks for the fuck.”  
  
“Sure,” he says, waving him off, still flat on his back. “Anytime.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” He's dry again, and Brian smiles a bit, closes his eyes and drift in that happy little place in the afterglow that promises to wipe his insomnia clean out tonight. There's a few long seconds before he hears Arin open the door. “By the way I'm getting Dan he'll be right in.” And then the door slams, and it takes a second for Brian to catch up, to realize that Arin's being the mischievous son of a bitch that he is, that Dan's room is just down the hall from Brian's and that he's got next to no chance to get himself cleaned up before Danny'll be there.  
  
“ _Shit!_ ” And when Brian faceplants on the floor from his legs being dead asleep after Arin rode him so thoroughly he decides right then and there that Arin's getting the oldest, crustiest clients he can find for the whole first fucking week that they're open, the bastard.


End file.
